


More Than Just Acquaintances

by flynnaw00



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Autistic! Alana Beck, Drug Use, Minor Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, also let alana be happy!!, alternating pov, first fic, im assuming i can edit tags as i go along so uh to be added ig, let connor be happy!!, watch out!, yknow.. all the depressing shit that comes w a deh fic so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:24:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 62,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flynnaw00/pseuds/flynnaw00
Summary: Connor Murphy was the school freak, everybody knew that. He was the crazy, wild eyed, stoner, who punched lockers until his fists bled and yelled at his teachers for no reason. He was the student who always had his fists clenched and jaw screwed tight, a cryptid of a human being.Alana Beck was a Straight A+ Student. A couple people knew that. She was always on time, always raised her hand in class, and joined every club she could. She was the perfect girl, the perfect student, a role model, indistinguishable from the rest of the student body.These two people were nothing alike.At least, it seemed that way.





	1. The Crazy Kid

**Author's Note:**

> hey whats up i fucking love deh and connor + alana friendship content so i decided to write a fic abt it lmao ! Ill add warnings to each chapter as i go along cuz i dont have everything written yet so who fuckign knows whats gonna happen
> 
> as a broad warning tho deh deals with suicide, self harm, drugs, etc, and this fic will too probably
> 
> i dont own deh at all and this is just fanfiction so uhh no sue me pls
> 
> also hey!! if you like this please leave a comment or smthn!! validation gets me going babeyy and no matter what u write i will appreciate it!

‘Be a buddy, not a bully! Join P.A.L.S today! 

(Please talk to Mrs. Anderson in room 305 for details)’

Alana smiled as she hung up her 20th poster of the day, smoothing her palm over the paper as a finishing touch. Out of the several clubs she was in, this had to be her 2nd favourite. A whole club dedicated to helping students find a place where they belong? It was perfect for Alana (who didn't have too many friends herself).

Alana frowned as the bell rang.  _ Guess hanging up flyers would have to wait until Lunch _ , she thought, reluctantly speed walking to her next class: English.

 

Slowly, the students trudged into the classroom after her (she was  _ always  _ early) and dropped their backpacks by their desks unceremoniously. Alana, the perfect student as always, took out a book and patiently waited until the teacher started calling role.

“Michael?”

“Here.”

“Christian?”

“Yo.”

Christian's friends giggled. Alana rolled her eyes.

“Alana?”

Alana shot up her hand and smiled. “Present!”

The teacher gave her a tight smile and returned to the roll.

“Connor?”

Silence.

“Connor Murphy?”

Again, silence.

The teacher scoffed and went to mark something off on her paper. Then, as if on cue, Connor Murphy stumbled into class. He flopped his body down onto his chair like a ragdoll, hair thrown over his face. 

The teacher raised an eyebrow and moved on.

Alana bit her lip, glancing up at Connor. She always wondered why he was so late. She figured if someone was going to skip, they would just go through with it instead of chickening out at the last minute- not that Alana Beck would  _ ever _ condone skipping.

She heard a low growl, startling her out of her thoughts. Connor is looking back at her, one bloodshot eye peeking out from his mess of hair. Alana swallows, realizing she'd been staring at him the whole time.

“Sorry.” She whispers, giving him a polite smile. 

“Fuck off.” He grumbles, putting his head down again. 

Alana frowns and sets down her book, feeling her stomach twist. She can’t help but feel guilty, despite knowing she shouldn’t.

Alana skims the copy of “Oedipus” she’s just been given, already two pages ahead of the teacher in annotations. She loved old Greek literature - especially tragedies. She picked up her orange highlighter for Antigone, slowly dragging it along the text.

An intense slam made her highlighter screech off the page.

“Would you all stop FUCKING STARING!?” Alana looked up, eyes immediately snapping to Connor, who was screaming furiously to the class. “What!? Is this what you want?! A BLOWOUT FROM THE CRAZY KID!??! WELL, CONGRATS, **ASSHOLES**!”

Before anyone had time to process what just happened, Connor Murphy had slammed the classroom door and left.

It was only once the teacher started reading again that Alana stopped staring, turning back to her paper and focusing on it diligently. The words seemed to blur as her stomach twisted in guilt again. She shut her eyes, reminding herself that he’d done this before. He’d probably recover soon and return to class, nobody even realizing he was gone in the first place. 

_ Nobody even realizing he was gone.. _

In all the times she had seen or heard of him acting up and running, nobody ever went after him. Sure, his sister sometimes did, but Alana knew that Zoe only did so out of ‘obligation’. Why had nobody tried to talk to him- to even understand someone so obviously….  _ troubled?  _

Alana took a deep breath and returned to her work, determined on being the one person who actually did something about Connor Murphy.


	2. If You Need To Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor takes a smoke break and is a little shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first couple chapters r gonna be a bit short so im posting two @ the same time rn. around the 4th itll get longer. (which is soon)

Connor could still feel the eyes burning into his back as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, followed by his lighter. As the first pull of smoke filled his lungs he felt his shoulders unwravel themselves from his tight neck; it wasn’t enough to get him to stop shaking, but it would have to do for now. As the cigarette continued to shrink between his lips he felt his body warming slightly, a moment’s escape.

Leaning back against the cold steps, Connor tried to find something to distract himself further from school. He’d done this tens of times in the past years: smoking out back, clearing his head. His head was always swimming in an endless river of thoughts and ideas, all passing by before he could grab one; and when he did, he always got hold of the wrong one. The one that made him scream in class, the one that made him tear the skin off of his lip impulsively because everyone just wouldn’t stop _fucking staring-_

He put another cigarette to his torn up lips.

He wished he could just walk out like he always did. Go to his van and sleep in the back in a cloud of pot smoke, just to get away. He smiled loosely at the thought. Maybe he could play some music, too. Some nice The 1975 or old 80’s songs. His dad was on his case right now, though, and if he ditched he would probably get his phone taken away or his window locked again. 

Connor was brought out of his temporary peace by the bell. He growled and covered his ears, throwing the butt of his first cigarette at the brick wall beside him, as if that would shut it up.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, someone came out onto the steps. Connor looked up, already preparing to shove past whatever annoying teacher came out and- oh. It was just a student. Connor rolled his eyes and politely moved his bag to the side so whoever this was could walk by.

Except, she didn’t. She sat down next to him, a soft look on her face. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to back away and pull out his cigarette.

“Hey.” She greeted. Connor furrowed his brows, letting out the smoke he had collected in his mouth. “Hey?”

“I’m- uh- Alana. I’m in your English class?”

_Oh._

Connor smacked her hand away, twirling his cigarette between his fingers. “Did Ms. White send you?"

Alana’s expression got somehow horribly softer, her hand just resting on his arm now. Connor tried to shrug it off. She didn’t get the message.

“No.. I’m just here to check and see if you’re okay? You.. just walked out of class earlier and I was worried.”

Connor scoffed. “Thanks. I guess. But I’m fine. Go to class.”

“I still have..” She paused to check her watch. “About three minutes..” 

Connor did a half eye roll and kept twirling the dry cigarette between his fingers, ashes littering his palms. He could feel his body get stiff with frustration; Connor had convinced himself that if he even tried to explain how annoying it was to be stared at all day- to be gawked at like some exotic beast; that he just  _had_ to tell them off to get them to stop, she'd just get bored and go back inside. Or, worse, she was a gossip, probably one of the people who started rumours about him, trying to get more dirt. Probably laughing at him right now, secretly. Probably was going to get him in even more trouble-  _probably \--_

Alana was gently rubbing his arm now, stirring up more frustration within Connor. He shook her off, his bony elbow stabbing her side as glared at her. “Stop that.”

“Oh, Sor-”

“If you came out here _just_ to make yourself feel good for ‘helping’ the ' _crazy kid'_ , or to fucking tell your friends about how ' _crazy_ ' I am,” He sneered. “then you can just fuck off back inside.”

A few seconds of silence hung between them. Connor felt his throat get tight as he looked over.

Alana was staring at him again, obviously wanting to put her hand back on his arm but restraining herself. _God,_ Connor grimaced as he turned away again. _Just leave._

“Connor.” Alana started, straightening her back. “I didn’t come out here just to make myself feel better or to bully you- I came out here to help.”

Connor glanced at her from the corner of his eye and scuffed her white shoes with his muddy boots. Alana gasped, fingertips gently touching her collarbone in offense.

“Connor!” She scolded.

“What.” He said back, lighting his cigarette in hopes the smoke would drive her away.

As expected, Alana covered her mouth immediately. She coughed, even though no smoke had reached her yet and gave Connor a look that was obviously supposed to be intimidating. He gave her a one beat _'hah'_ in response. 

“Fine.”

She stood, taking a pen out of her pocket and writing on a small sticky-note before handing it to Connor and walking back inside.

_Finally._

Connor took a long, forceful, inhale of his cig and spat out the ash, revelling the buzz in his lungs. He didn’t even notice the strange forlorn feeling that had settled in his chest until he glanced at the note.

‘If you need to talk

917 462 2667’

Connor stared at the note until the bell rang, gently stuffing it into his pocket.

He took another drag. 


	3. 3 A.M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Alana start texting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back w another short chapter! dont worry, the one after this is much longer. 
> 
> ive decided to start uploading on sundays ! most likely afternoons (thats when i wake up lmao) so watch out 4 another update then! (tumblr: @space-is-the-place2)
> 
> also ty everyone for your support and feedback <3 ily all sm !!
> 
> i dont own deh etc etc this is fiction

Alana was sitting on her bed, working on her homework well into the twilight hours of the night. At least, she assumed so. She hasn’t checked the clock recently, she actually turned it around when she started her work. Alana has found that knowing how long she’s been working stresses her out more, it makes her work sloppy and her head spin. So, she just keeps working until she's done and tries to force down the exhaust tugging on her eyelids, weighing her down into her desk chair. 

Her phone buzzes, breaking the work flow. She contemplates just letting it sit there, knowing that if she checks it, she’ll see the time.

She checks it anyways.

It’s 3 A.M, much later than Alana thought. She shudders, feeling the marrow in her bones chill with anxiety. She tries to ignore the time, however, in favour of seeing what’s clogging up her very important work/sleep schedule.

_‘UNKNOWN NUMBER: hey’_

_‘UNKNOWN NUMBER: it's connor’_

She lights up, setting down her pencil immediately and opening the two texts.

_‘Hello, Connor! How are you?’_

_‘UNKNOWN NUMBER: hi’_

_‘UNKNOWN NUMBER: i'm fine. You?’_

Alana searches her head for an acceptable response to give to Connor, trying to shift her train of thought away from school. She wanted to make a good first- no, this would be the second- impression. She wanted to make another good impression on Connor. After all, Connor was just an acquaintance. Not even that, he was a stranger. They hardly knew eachother. But, all strangers could be friends with some work.

_‘I'm just finishing up a paper for biology!’_

_‘CONNOR MURPHY: really? It's 3 am dude’_

_‘I know. I don't like to think about it.’_

_‘?’_

Alana mentally curses her sleep deprived self for saying too much. Way to overshare, Alana.

_‘Sorry! I’m just tired. :-) Why are you still awake at 3 am, though? (eyes emoji)’_

_‘I can't sleep’_

_‘Oh, sorry!’_

_‘Why are you saying sorry. It's not your fault i can't sleep’_

_‘I know. I was saying it out of sympathy; like, i’m sorry you can’t sleep. That sounds awful.’_

_‘It's fine’_

Alana doesn’t know what to say after that. Luckily, Connor Murphy is apparently the type of person to double text.

_‘So why did you give me your number?’_

_‘Well, you seemed busy earlier so i figured this would be easier. :-)'_

Alana decided it was best to sugar-coat their interaction earlier, being polite was always good. She set her phone in one hand and started writing again with the other, determined to finish this paper before 4 A.M struck. 

It was a few minutes before Connor texted back.

_‘I wasnt busy. You were just there because of my batshit freak out.’_

Alana frowned. Jeez, Connor didn’t mind being blunt. The chill of anxiety still present in her bones flared up again suddenly. Had she already messed this up? What if she was being annoying? Maybe she shouldn't have sugar-coated it.. 

She took a deep breath, letting the citrus air fill her lungs (she always turned on her essential oil diffuser for work) and shook her head of the negative thoughts, knocking her pencil against her desk to stim.

_‘Well, I felt compelled to check up on you. Nobody else seemed to care.’_

Being polite was always good. Too bad Alana Beck didn’t know jack shit about being polite. Or subtle.

Connor didn't respond for a few minutes again. Maybe he was busy too?

_‘Yeah’_

_‘Are you feeling better now?’_  

Connor didn’t respond.

Alana assumed he passed out on his phone, despite the insecurity rooting itself in her thoughts, and returned to work.


	4. Be Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor has no respect for the law and Alana doesn't know what to do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// drugs 
> 
> heyy sorry this is kind of late in the afternoon i stayed up til 4 last night bc of a rly late night concert soo ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> if you enjoy this fic leave some comments below !! :)

Connor was high out of his mind, the students around him fizzling into the edges of his head as he tried to remember what he was doing. 

“Hi, Connor!”

Connor squinted, looking around aimlessly for who that sickeningly peppy voice belonged to. 

“Um. Down here?” A dark hand waved in front of his vision. He looked down to find himself staring at Alana Beck, the person who he texted last night and.. pissed him off? What was he pissed at her for again?

“Hello?”

Oh, right. She’s talking to him.

“Hi..” He drawled, tilting his head at her. “Uh.. why are you talking to me?”

Alana’s face twitched for just a moment into a different expression; her back straightened and her braids got sharper.

“Well, I just figured I would say hi since I’m trying to get to know you, but if you’re going to be all aloof about it I guess I should just leave.”

“What..?”

Alana turned on her heel to get ready to leave. 

He grabbed her shoulder with a little too much force before she had the chance.

“Whoa.. Whoa, I didn’t mean to.. Be a dick. I’m sorry.” He tried, smoothing the wrinkles he made in her sweater.

“It’s.. It’s fine.” She smiled tightly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” 

“Mm. Okay. Well-” She moved his hand off of her sweater. Oh, shit, he was still doing that? Gross. He was so weird. Oh, god, she must think he’s a creep now..

“I was just thinking-”

“I’m sorry for touching you..” Connor interrupted. 

Alana stopped mid-sentence, blinking up at him. “What?”

“Like..” He said, trying to explain. “Uhhh.. I was smoothing.. Your shirt-”

“It’s-”

“And then I just kept touching it.. So, yeah.”

Awkward silence fell between them for all of two seconds before Alana adjusted her sweater and kept talking.

“So, anyways, I was thinking maybe you could join P.A.L.S with me? It's this after-school club that’s dedicated to helping students find a place where they belong! I figured, since you seem kind of lonely;”

Connor narrowed his eyes.

“It would be great for you to join! I've already talked to the leader and—”

The bell cut her off. She waited until it was done ringing to continue.

“So, will you join?” Alana questioned, standing on her tiptoes with a hopeful smile. Connor tried to politely reject her offer, but all that succeeded in coming out was a long “uhh.”

Alana frowned.

“I see.”

She turned to leave, stopped once more by Connor.

“Uh— I.. Uh.. No. Sorry. Fuck. Sorry. I'm- high. Sorry. Bye.” Connor sputtered, fleeing to his next class.

_ Christ, that was stressful.  _

 

\----

 

Alana watched Connors lanky frame disappear into a classroom, still processing that cluster-fuck of a conversation. 

_ Connor was high!? _

Alana knew about the rumours that circled school, sure. She heard that Connor was a druggie who did all sorts of things: Marijuana, Crack, Cocaine, Pills, she even heard he did Heroin one time! Of course, she didn't believe the last one. He didn't look like someone who did Heroin (Alana looked it up to be sure); but to actually come face to face with a _drug addict_ .. Alana felt conflicted. She didn’t want Connor to go to jail, but she was always taught that Marijuana was a gateway drug, that it’d send someone into a spiral of addiction and then they’d end up in a horrible situation! It was also illegal, and breaking the law was absolutely not okay. 

Alana tossed around the idea of what to do until she sat down in her seat in class, deciding that she would keep this a secret for now, but ultimately if she couldn’t convince Connor to quit smoking drugs then she’d tell someone. Probably a counselor. Hopefully, it didn’t come to that. 

 

\----

 

Connor fucking loved being a stoner. He loved the smell, the smoke, the way it felt in his lungs and especially when he felt himself relax. 

He had started smoking when he was fifteen; his first time was in a musty garage with some hardcore druggie that claimed he had connections with the ‘Mexican Drug Cartel’, Connor never believed him but he did have quality pot. He only smoked with him that one time; probably because he made a comment about getting lung cancer from cigarettes when the guy offered him one and used the rest of his AXE spray to cover up a non-existent pot stank. His mom didn’t even care that he was a giggly mess with red eyes when she drove him home; she was just excited he had a ‘friend’. 

Connor tapped his fingers bluntly against the wooden desk to the song playing in his headphones: “Chocolate” by the 1975. He always seemed to go towards indie music when he was high. 

The end of the school day came sooner than expected. He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and drifted into the sea of students, occasionally bumping into people on his way out to the parking lot. Once he got there, he climbed into the back of his van and turned on the radio, flicking through stations until he found one playing something good. Satisfied, he laid back in the van, propping his head up on his bag like a pillow.

Connor never immediately went home after the school day was over. Sure, school was shit, but home was shittier. His van was the one place he could get true alone time; free rein to do whatever he wanted and control his surroundings. He had decorated it pretty nicely as well: space, nature, and other kinds of cool themed stickers were pressed proudly against the walls, a small blanket lay on top of the always folded back seats, and there were a couple of pillows in there too. His parents thought it was ‘very creative’. His sister thought he was pretentious and weird. He tried not to mind, though. It made him happy and that’s all that mattered.

His phone lit up beside him with a new text message.

_ ‘Hey, Connor?’  _

It was Alana, of course. The only person who texted him that wasn’t his family, or random hook-ups, or his dealer.  _ Damn, he really was a friendless loser, huh?  _ Connor shook his head of the thought that just invaded his supposed to be peaceful mind with a scowl, responding to take his mind off of.. his mind.

_ ‘yeah?’ _

_ ‘Can i ask you something?’ _

Connor groaned, he hated vague questions like this. Most people did. Why did she have to fucking word it like that?

_ ‘Sure.’ _

_ ‘Do you smoke marijuana?’ _

Connor groaned again, louder this time. He could just tell by the way she wrote out the whole medical terminology of weed that she was totally straight-edge. 

_ ‘No’  _ He lied, hoping to get her off his back.

_ ‘Connor. You said you were high today and I've heard the rumours.’ _

Damn, guess she was too smart for blatant lies.

_ ‘If i did smoke would you report me?’ _

_ ‘No. I don't want to see you end up in jail, Connor. But if you don’t quit I might.’ _

_ ‘Why not just.. Not report me. I'm fine’ _

_ ‘What else do you do?’ _

_ ‘I have the right to remain silent, officer’ _

_ ‘I'm not a cop’ _

_ ‘You sound like one’ _

_ ‘Please? I just wanna talk to you.’ _

_ ‘Not over text’ _

_ ‘Then I’ll call.’ _

Mere seconds after he received that message Alana was calling him. He stared at the screen for a few seconds before answering.

“.. Hello?” He slowly held the phone to his ear.

“Hi.”

“Uh-”   


“So. Now can we talk?”

Connor made a noise in between a groan and a laugh, it ending in a whine. 

“Dude, C’mon.. Just let me smoke in peace.”

“Smoke what?”

“Pot? You literally just asked me a second ago.” 

“I knew it.”

“Yeah, you did. Good fucking job, Sherlock. You gonna arrest me?”

“No. I’m not. I wanna know why you’re doing this.”

“It’s none of your business-”

“It is my business.”

“It’s literally not.”

“Yes, it is. As someone who respects the law-”

“Dear god.”

“What? What’s wrong with what I just said?”

“As someone who has absolutely  _ zero _ respect for the law: everything. Let me do illegal shit.”

There was a sharp inhale and a slow, frustrated, sigh from the other end.

“ _ Connor _ .. Drugs are never the answer.”

“Stop.”

“No!”

“If I tell you why I smoke will you leave this alone?”

“Maybe. Depends on the reason.”

“....”

“Cause- uh-”

“..”

Connor hung up.

“Oh fuck, why’d I do that.”

He set down the phone, hands covering his face entirely in embarrassment. 

His phone rang again and he resisted the ringing for as long as he could before he finally, shamefully, picked it up again.

“Hey.. I’m- uh- sorry-- I don't know why I hung up.. Uh.”

“I understand. You’re..” She whispered. “High.”

Connor’s shame turned to enervation quickly, a wry scowl present on his face.

“Yeah..”

“So!” She perked back up immediately. “Mind telling me why?”

“.. I- I do, actually. I don’t wanna say. It’s kind of personal.”

“....”

Connor furrowed his brows. Why did she stop talking?

“.. Alana?”

“Yes?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just.. Do you do any other drugs?”

“Uh..” Connor thought back, trying to remember if he did. 

“I think.. I tried acid  _ once.  _ Accidentally. That’s it, though.”

“Hm.”

“Are you writing this shit down or something?”

“No, no.. just.. figuring out what I should do with this information.”

“If you call the cops I’ll kill you, I swear to god.”

“.. Is-” She sounded genuinely frightened at Connor’s mock-threat. “Are you serious?”

“No..?” He tilted his head. “I’m just saying: don't call the cops.”

“I- yeah, sorry. Just.. wasn’t sure.”

“Why?? Do I seem like a  _ murderer  _ to you?”

“No!! No! No! Uhm..”

“Alana.”

“There’s.. Just a lot of rumours around school, y'know? They’re just rumours, though. I never participate in any of them-”

“But you believe them?”

“.. Some have a lot of evidence.”

“.... Like what?” Connor laid back down, chewing on the idea of hanging up and never speaking to Alana again. His suspicions were probably correct anyway. She was definitely probably  _ most likely  _ a gossip just getting dirt to spread. Or, worse, she was a snitch and recording all this and was about to call the cops. Or worse! Her  _ dad  _ could be a cop or something and--

“- and those are all the ones I’ve heard.”

Connor blinked. Shit, he was overthinking too much to listen. He really had to stop doing that.

“Uh.. I didn’t get that, sorry. Can you repeat those?”

“Ugh..” There was some shuffling on the other end. “No, Connor. Listen next time, okay?”

“Fine..”

They kept chatting back and forth until it was two hours past when Connor was supposed to be home, the conversation shifting from the uncomfortable topic of 'Connor, stop smoking weed' to more light ones. Before they knew it, they were both laughing at a horrible dark humour jokes Connor made. Connor discovered that Alana seemed to have a dark sense of humour; although she was reluctant to really make any  _ horrible  _ jokes like Connor did. Alana discovered that Connor wasn’t all that scary. He might have a grotesque sense of humour, but she didn’t mind. 

Their conversation came to a close when Connor’s dad called him, worried that he’d gotten into trouble again. Connor reassured him he was fine and begrudgingly got in the front seat, high mostly gone. 

_ ‘Hey sorry i hung up. Dad called and wants me home.’  _ he tapped out to Alana, starting the car.

_ ‘You aren’t home?’ _

_ ‘Nah. ive been in the school parking lot the whole time. I'm driving home rn’ _

_ ‘Oh! Well, be safe!’ _

Connor read over that message twice, three times, maybe four. 

_ Be safe. _

It was a simple thing to say, really. Something Alana probably didn’t even think much about before sending. Something Connor shouldn’t be thinking about so much either. Two simple words that meant nothing; a small gesture of politeness. Expected, really. Anyone with decent manners would text someone to ‘be safe.’

He couldn’t help the small smile on his face, however, and the warm feeling that filled his chest as he read it over once more. He replied to the text before he set his phone in the cupholder and drove home.

_ ‘Thanks.’ _


	5. Barely Accquaintances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Connor have a Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// jared being a dick so he's bound to say some offensive things
> 
> if you enjoy this fic and wanna see more leave some comments below!! :)

Connor Murphy was as interesting of a person as he was confusing; one day it seemed Connor would be happy to talk to Alana, and the next Alana felt like he loathed her very existence. Alana was patient, though. She wanted to help him. She just wasn’t sure if he  _ wanted  _ that help.

For example, one day after school they were texting:

_ ‘Hey, Connor? Did you finish the Antigone packet? I’m swamped with work right now and could use help annotating the last page.’  _

_ ‘hey’  _

_ ‘no sorry i didnt.’ _

_ ‘Oh! Okay, that's fine!’ _

_ ‘no it isnt’ _

_ ‘I havent even started on hte packet’ _

_ ‘the*’ _

_ ‘Oh.. well, you should probably start..’ _

_ ‘why’ _

_ ‘Because of your grades? You need to finish work to get good grades, Connor.’ _

_ ‘Fuck off’ _

_ ‘I could help you if you wanted? I’ve tutored people before and it seemed to work for them? I’d be honestly happy to help you if you wanted. :-)’ _

_ ‘Fuck off’ _

_ ‘Connor, stop telling me to f*ck off’ _

_ ‘Whyd you censor fuck’ _

_ ‘Because I don't like swearing’ _

_ ‘oh shit sorry should I not swear?’ _

_ ‘im sorry’ _

_ ‘No, it's fine if you do, I just don't like it personally.’ _

_ ‘oh’ _

_ ‘sorry for telling you to fuck off’ _

_ ‘It's okay.’ _

_ ‘it really isnt’ _

_ ‘Connor. It’s okay, really! Are you okay? Any reason why you told me to f*ck off?’ _

_ ‘no. im fine. I gtg bye’ _

Alana knew something was wrong, but as soon as she approached it, he seemed to leave. That seemed to be a constant in their messaging: Connor leaving as soon as Alana tried to fix things. That’s why she preferred when they talked in person, or over call. Connor seemed avoidant of that, though, preferring text. It was very complicated to get to  _ really _ know Connor Murphy. Then again, Alana Beck wasn’t known for her people skills.

Today, Alana was in school, the weekend spent doing work, texting Connor, or watching Netflix. Connor had told her earlier that he might not show up to school today, but she, (with the help of a very long news report stating all the reasons he shouldn’t) convinced him to go eventually. 

She waited for English class to start, sat cross legged in her seat reading. Connor wasn’t in class yet. She frowned. Had he decided to skip anyways? He said he’d show up! Alana pressed her lips into a fine line, hanging onto hope that Connor would show. 

The bell rung three minutes later and Connor still wasn’t there. She sighed, Connor wasn’t coming.  _ Of course he didn’t come.  _ Some part of her thought.  _ You’re wasting your time; he doesn’t appreciate what you’re trying to do. This is dumb. You’re dumb. You’re a dumbass f-- hey, hey, no swearing.  _

Class continued as usual; though Alana wasn’t invested. She handed over her packet and waited until the bell rung again, getting out of her seat and opening Connor’s contact to thoroughly scold him for skipping. She didn't get the chance to, however, before she spotted a familiar, lanky, silhouette down the crowded hall. She gasped. He had come! Just.. extremely late. Great. Well, that was still better than him not showing up at all..!

She optimistically marched through the students, the halls emptying quickly and leaving just her, Connor, and-

“Connor! Hey, what’s up? You look happy.. finally get the perfect gun to shoot up the school with?”

Jared Kleinman.

Alana didn’t know Kleinman personally, but from what she heard from Connor and generally experiencing him in her Algebra class last year, he was a prick. A total prick. 

Connor was staring at Jared like they were in a standoff, Connor's tight fist twitching towards his back pocket threateningly. Jared, on the other hand, was completely oblivious. His thumbs tucked under his backpack straps like suspenders and a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

“Well?” Jared prodded, raising an eyebrow.

Silence. 

Jared opened his mouth to say something else equally as annoying when Connor stomped his boot down with a loud  _ thud _ , blowing some air out of his nose like bull ready to charge. Jared jumped. 

“Jesus, Murphy! The fuck was that?”

Connor raised his foot again.

Alana moved in, deciding to stop this before it escalated. “Hey, Connor!” She chirped, coming up to him. “Where were you this morning? I thought you said you’d be here for English!”

Connor eyes went wide as she approached him, lowering his foot slowly.

“Uh.. I- I never said I’d be here for  _ English _ .. I said I’d uh- be here.” 

“Wow, Connor!” Jared chuckled, cutting in. “I didn't know you had a  _ friend _ ! How'd you do that? Blackmail? Kidnapping? ..Something else fucked up?”

Connor growled, shoulders squaring. Alana put a hand on his arm before he could respond, shushing him. He didn't seem to like it, but it calmed him enough to not say anything back.

Jared shifted awkwardly. 

“Just a.. Joke. Jesus.” 

He leaned towards Alana and stage whispered to her.

“Hey, ‘Lana. Just a word of advice? Don't hang around serial killer central here: he's crazy.”

“I know.” Alana deadpanned, not noticing how Connor glared at her afterwards.

Jared shrugged and walked off to his next class, waving to Alana grandly before shutting the door.

Alana sighed, turning to Connor.

“Hey.. You okay?” She tries, using as soft of a voice as possible for him and rubbing his arm again. Connor smacked it away, rings on his fingers causing extra damage.

“I'm leaving.” He grumbles, storming off towards the exit.

“Wait!! Don't walk out those doors—” Alana attempts.

Connor walks out.

Alana groans. following him outside and trying to keep up with his long, bitter, strides.

“Connor, listen to me.”

“No.”

“Connor.”

“Fuck off!”

“Connor!” She grabbed his wrist, rougher than she expected. He tugs away again. They're outside now and the bell is ringing in her ears.  _ Why can’t she just do this right? Why couldn’t this be easy? _ Alana looked back to the doors. She should go to class, she doesn't want to skip- she doesn't even want to be late. But Connor's already going towards the parking lot and Alana can't let him get away. This is a chance to comfort him and get him to finally open up, she needs to fix him—

She shakes her head.

Help. She needs- she wants to  _ help  _ him. Because he's sad and he's getting away and oh no he's getting away.

Alana has to jog to catch up with him when he reaches an outdated looking van that Alana assumes is his. The bell stops ringing and she decides she’ll have a meltdown about being late later.

“Connor.” She tries again in vain. Connor doesn't listen, searching his pockets for his keys.

“Connor. Look at me.”

“Why should I!?” He yells, throwing his keys at her, hitting her in the chest. The car alarm started blaring. Before Alana can get another word out he kicks her in the shin with his boots, soiling her jeans and probably bruising her.

Alana stands there, just staring at him in disbelief, keys in hand. Alana might have made it her mission to help Connor, but she had limits. She had self-respect and dignity and she wasn’t going to be pushed around just for the sake of helping some troubled kid she felt bad for. 

She took a deep breath, turning off the car alarm because frankly it was  _ way  _ too loud for her to listen to it for a second longer and setting his keys on the back of the van.

“Connor, I want to help you.” She says after composing herself. “I really,  _ really _ , do. But, I can't help you if you won't allow me to. If you want me to- to eff off, or.. just ‘leave you alone’, I will.”

She turned away, ponytail swishing as a strike of finality as she walked towards the school.

She had made it only 12 or so steps before something hit her in the back of the head.

“Ow!” She yiped, looking back at a wide-eyed Connor, crumpled in on himself and watching Alana with a transfixed gaze. She looked down at the pavement, seeing his keys laying there. She groaned, picking them up.

“Connor. Stop throwing things at me—”

“Don't go.”

Alana blinked.

“.... What?”

“Uh-” Connor got uncharacteristically quiet, lips parted like he wanted to say something, but kept it in. 

“Connor.” Alana deadpanned. “Be straight with me: do you want me here or should I go back inside? I don't wanna be later than I already am.”

Connor snapped his head up to stare at her again.

Alana waited.

“....”

“......”

“Connor.”

Connor tensed. “Sorry! Sorry, uh- I — yeah.”

“Yeah? Yeah  _ what _ .”

“.... Stay.” 

Alana sighed, walking back to Connor and leaning up against the van with him. He ran a hand through his hair, twirling the ends between his fingertips.

They sat in silence for a while, Alana studying his anxious ticks. 

“I just don't know why he's like that,” Connor says, chewing on his lip. “y'know?”

Alana hums. “Who? Jared?”

“Yeah.”

“He.. I don't know. He's just a bully.”

“Yeah..”

Connor looks over, a certain sense of vulnerability in his eyes.

“... When Jared said.. That I was crazy, why’d you agree with him?”

“Uhm..” She straightened her posture, thinking. “I don’t know, honestly. I think.. mostly I was just trying to get him to go away.” 

“.. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“.. Well, yeah.”

Connor wheezed weakly, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Wow. Fucking-  _ okay _ .”

“What’s so funny?”

“Uh-” He sighs, a tired smile on his face. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn't expect you to be so blunt.”

“You’re welcome.”

Connor looked over, studying her, looking for any signs of sarcasm or genuineness or maybe a hint that she really was just here for her own self benefit. He couldn’t find anything, he was too tired to. He wasn’t good at reading people anyways. Leftover anger buzzed in his bones from being called crazy but he didn’t want to bring it out.

“Hey, Connor?” Alana says to fill the silence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Whenever I text you about personal things, why do you leave?”

“What?”

“Like.. when I text you about how you’re feeling or when I asked about about why you smoke drugs and you hung up?”

Connor took a deep breath through his nose, brushing his hair behind his ear. Alana could tell he didn’t want to be talking about this- that he wanted to leave. 

“.... I dunno.” He says finally.

Alana presses her lips together, frustrated with the vague answer. He knew. She  _ knew  _ he knew.

These things took time, though, and at least he was somewhat opening up. But it wasn’t enough for Alana. Alana wanted Connor to open up fully, immediately, she wanted to fix this and feel like she did something good for once, that she helped someone. She wanted Connor to thrust open the metaphorical door and shout _ ‘Here I am! Here’s what’s wrong with me!!’ _ ; Instead, Connor was barely peeking out from his door, his chain lock catching it before it could go further than a mere inch, just barely enough to see out.

“.. You know, I’m here for you.” Alana says, reaching a hand out delicately. “If you ever need to talk.”

“I know.” He says, mostly just to get her to be quiet about how she’s ‘here for him’. Nobody was ‘here for him’. He didn’t believe that, even if some desperate part of him wanted to.

He looks down at her hand, examining the gentle outreach before gingerly placing his hand in hers. It felt weird. Connor had never held someone’s hand like this before. But as Alana smiled at him, intertwining her perfectly soft fingers, painted sunshine yellow, with his long, bony, hand, he found he liked it.

Alana did too. 

They let it happen, awkwardly holding hands in the school parking lot, leaning up against Connor’s old van. But it was only awkward because they didn’t know each other yet. They were strangers- no- they were acquaintances, yet barely acquaintances. Two almost acquaintances, holding hands as they watched the bell ring, students crossing the yard to get to their classes. Alana forgot about her schedule for a moment, and Connor forgot about himself. 

Connor was the one to pull away when the time came, as expected. He told Alana something about how she should be in class right now and how he’s sorry about wasting her time. Alana reassures him that she’s fine, that she can make up for it by staying after school and that he should be in class, too. 

They walk back together, side by side, both wearing secret smiles the other definitely couldn’t know about.


	6. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Alana have lunch together. The horribly amazing Jared Klienman shows up and gets his ass beat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late post!! school is tomorrow and i forgot it was sunday so whoops !! hope yall like this chapter tho
> 
> // tw vomit // tw alana says some ignorant shit abt mental illness even tho she has one // tw uh idk fighting?
> 
> i dont own deh blah blah
> 
> and as always leave a comment below if you like the fic !! :D

After that Moment in the parking lot, things were different between them. There wasn’t this tenseness that was present before, the weird foreign feeling of talking to someone new. Now, it was more of a sustainable awkwardness; both of them were trying to navigate their weird connection now. Because they _definitely_ had _some_ sort of Connection that formed in the parking lot, but neither was sure of what exactly that connection was.

Connor was aware of the connection as making a new friend, or trying to, at least. Progress in a friendship. So, he tried to do as someone else who was used to this sort of thing would do, he would try to reach out and befriend her more.

Connor showed up to to school the next morning, not high nor loathing, he was fully awake and anxious. He was planning on asking if he could sit with Alana at lunch today- or rather, if she would mind sitting with him. He assumed she had a group of friends she usually sat with and he wasn’t ready for that yet; the loud lunchroom would irritate him and he would no doubt end up having another trademark Connor Murphy Episode or he’d just sit there while everyone talked to each other about their _oh so exciting_ weekends and how close they all were and Connor would just sit there, eating quietly and wishing he was never born.

Connor ate lunch outside since Sophomore year; he liked the quietness and how he could watch the clouds pass by overhead. He’d usually find a bench to lay down on in the yard, napping until the soft footfalls of students awoke him. He figured Alana might like that.

He found Alana heading to lunch right after English, shuffling through the groups of people to get to her. 

“Uh- Hey.” He said, tapping her on the shoulder. Alana jolts, looking behind her and then tilting her head up to fully see him. She smiles, confused. 

“Hi?”

Connor swallows. Fuck. Bad start. Mistake. This was a mistake.

“Uh..” He stammers, running a hand through his hair. “Do- do you.. uh.. Wanna.. Um..” He’s looking away now. “Do.. you..”

“Connor,” Alana interrupts, relieving Connor of the stress of speaking momentarily. “Are you okay?”

Connor nods quickly. “Yeah! Just.. wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Do you wanna eat with me today..?”

Alana gasps softly before giving Connor a pitying look. _ Oh no. _

“Connor.. I’m so sorry..” She takes hold of his arm, still, after many times, not getting that he didn’t like that. “I would  _ love  _ to but I’m actually meeting with a teacher this lunch period to catch up on some work I missed. I’m super sorry, I would’ve said yes if I didn’t..” 

Connor nods firmly, face scrunched into a mixture of disappointment and self-loathing while still trying to remain neutral. 

“Yeah, no, I get it.” He politely moves her hand off his arm. “I get it, it’s fine. Sorry. Bye.”

He turns around, tugging on his sleeves.  _ Fuck!! He was such a dumbass!!!!  _

“Uh- Connor?” Alana calls out, somehow loud and gentle at the same time. He turns around and sees her fond expression again. 

“I’ll try and see if I can get my work finished before lunch ends, okay? I’ll text you.”

Alana sees Connor’s eyes shine for a moment, the door opening just a bit more before he nods definitively, gripping his lunch bag. “Yeah! Yeah, okay. Cool. I’ll see you. Bye.” 

He gave her a stiff wave before leaving, mind still dizzy with paranoia. There was a reassuring warmth lodged in his chest, though, somewhere between the ribs that kept him from losing control.

 

\---

 

Alana was aware of their connection as making progress towards helping Connor Murphy: the School Freak, the Troubled Teen, her almost acquaintance. So, she started to visualize what her end goal was with him. She originally was just hoping to give him some comfort, but now things were different. She couldn’t tell how, but they were. She spent the morning brainstorming and came to a conclusion: Connor Murphy needed a friend, someone to lean into when times got tough; and Alana was perfect for the role. 

_‘Hey! I’m finished with my work! :-) Where are you?’_ She texted from the halls, heading outside to meet Connor. She had powered through her extra work, just as promised.

_ ‘I’m in the yard. There's a red bench a little outside of the center that I usually eat at.’ _

_ ‘Okay! I’m omw.’ _

Alana pocketed her phone, pushing through the exit doors and heading to where she assumed Connor to be. She smiled as she saw him, laying down on the bench with his bag for a pillow. She tapped him awake and he moved aside, sitting up so she could eat.

“Hey.” He greeted, sitting with one leg up on the bench. 

“Hello.” She said back, biting into her banana.

“So.. what’s up?” Connor says, leaning back against the bench and looking at the clouds overhead. 

“Nothing much. Just had to finish some work from my AP Bio class!” 

“Cool.”

…

…

Connor ran a hand through his hair, body tensing with how awkward this was.

“So..” Alana starts. “What’s your favourite colour?” 

Connor snorted. “Uh-” He coughed to cover up his quiet laughter. Alana didn’t understand what was so funny.

“I dunno.. Uh.. Lavender?”

“Lavender?” Alana smiled. “I thought you’d say something like.. Black or.. Gray.”

Connor blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.. but, y’know, it’s a pretty colour.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“... How about you?”

“I like yellow. Or orange. Any warm colour is nice.”

“Any reason why?”

“Hm.. well, yellow makes people happier just by looking at it and.. Those are the colour of sunsets?”

“Did you just make that up?” Connor teases, looking over.

“What? No.”

Connor frowns. “Oh. Okay, just- sounded like you did. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Alana reassures, finishing her lunch and setting it down so she could scoot closer to Connor. “Any reason why lavenders your favourite?”

“Just..” Connor sat up some more, shying away from Alana being so close. It’s not that he didn’t want to be close to Alana- but he wasn’t sure if  _ she  _ wanted to be close to _ him. _ “Because it’s pretty. That’s.. Really it.”

“Oh.” Alana nodded, brushing her ponytail behind her absentmindedly. 

…

…

“What’s your-”

“What’s-”

“Oh, shit, sorry, go ahead.”

“No, no, it’s okay. You go.”

“No, really, you go. It was stupid.”

“Connor-”

“Just ask me what you were gonna ask me.”

Alana took a breath. “If you could be any animal, what animal would you be?”

Connor snoofed, knowing Alana probably looked up ‘conversation starters’ on her phone. He didn’t mind, though. It was better than sitting in silence. 

“I would.. Be a wolf.” He smiled. “You?”

“A wolf?” Alana tilted her head. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah. They’re really.. Majestic..? In a way? I know It's stupid to say that but-”

“Why?” Alana asks.

“Uhh… Like.. Wolves are— like- a- I dunno.” He gestures abstractly. “It's just weird.”

“... I think they're cool.” Alana says, giving Connor a warm smile.

Connor blinked. 

“Oh.”

He smiled.

"Okay."

They asked each other questions like that for the rest of the lunch period, Alana occasionally having to go back to her phone to look up more conversation starters. By the time lunch was over, the conversation was flowing smoothly. Connor felt happy for once, shoulders relaxed and cheeks rosy. Alana felt accomplished, but in a deeper, more personal way than usual.

 

\----

 

Alana exits her calculus class, almost through with the school day (not counting the copious amounts of extracurriculars and other after school activities she had to do). She hears the far off sound of a pained yelp, which immediately catches her--and everyone else around her’s--attention. 

She sees Jared Kleinman, laying on the floor and Connor above him, eyes wild with fury. 

“What the fuck, Connor?!” Jared says as he attempts to sit up, winded. “I didn’t even say anythin-” Jared suddenly makes a horrible retching noise; Connor had stomped down on his jugular with his Very Heavy boots.

Connor snarls at Jared before storming off, boots thudding against the school tiles like a war drum. Jared is gasping for air, clutching his throat and Alana is by him in seconds, helping him up and lending him her water bottle, which Jared hurriedly chugs.

“Jared, are you okay?” She says, rubbing Jared’s back in an attempt to soothe him. He keeps coughing, which turns into retching, which leads into him scrambling over to the nearest trash can and hurling into it loudly. Most of the students who had been watching leave at that point, grossed out. Alana is too, but she feels responsible for what just happened in some weird, secondary, way. 

Jared stumbles back over to Alana, still coughing but not as much. She stands, helping him with his breathing.

“Do you need me to take you to the nurse?” She offers. Jared shakes his head.

“No, no- i'm fine- I--” He coughs again like a cat hacking up a hairball. “Nope! Fuck- I’m gonna go to the nurse, yeah. Just- i’ll be fine.”

He walks off in the direction of the nurses office, Alana watching in concern. The hall is mostly empty now, minus some scattered students. 

“Hey.” Says a soft voice, tapping her on the shoulder. It’s Zoe Murphy, here to serve as damage control as usual. “Are you okay?”

Alana nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. Jared was the one who got hurt.”

“Jared?”

“Jared Kleinman?”

“I don’t know him.”

“Oh.”

“Where is he?” Zoe says, looking around. She seems more tired than usual, drained. Alana takes note of this and gives her a sympathetic smile.

“He went to the nurses office.”

Zoe raises her eyebrows. “Connor hurt him that bad?”

Alana nods in shame, though she has no reason to be shameful.

“What’d he-” Zoe hesitates before continuing with her sentence, not really wanting to know. “..What’d he do?”

“He.. stomped down on Jared’s throat.” Alana says. Zoe lets out a defeated whimper, putting her face in her hands for a moment before sighing and looking back up, nodding weakly. 

“Okay. Yeah. Okay.. Thanks.” She turns to leave but Alana stops her, grabbing her by the shoulder and forcibly turning her around, which startles Zoe but Alana doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Do you know why he does that?” Alana asks.

“.. Does what?”

“Is violent.”

“Uh.. cause he’s insane?”

“No,” Alana sighs, sounded exasperated even though she was the one interrogating Zoe for details. “I mean other than that?”

Zoe stared at her for a long time before she shrugged.

“Sorry, Alana. I don’t know. I have to get to class, though, so.. I’ll talk to you later?”

Alana clicks her tounge against her teeth in dissapointment but nods.

"I'll talk to you later, yeah. Have fun in class!"

"I won't." Zoe chuckled, some tiredness lifting from her face. Alana laughs along, waving goodbye. She'd let her go this time, since Zoe seemed so tired, but next time she was defintiely asking more questions.

 

\----

 

_ ‘Hey, Connor? Can we talk?’ _

_ ‘sure. What abt?’ _

[INCOMING CALL: ALANA]

“Hello?”

“Hi. I wanted to talk to you about Jared?”

Connor groans. “Why?”

“You really hurt him.”

“I know..”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Cause..”

Connor searches for a reason. He can’t find one.

“I don’t know..”

“Is it because he insulted you again?”

“No.. He was just- looking at me. Like an asshole.”

“.. He was  _ just  _ looking at you?”

“Fuck off.”

Alana can hear faint smacking noises coming from Connor’s end.

“.... I’m not changing the subject, but what’s that noise?”

Connor stops tossing the baseball he’s been playing with. “Hm? What noise?”

“The noise that just stopped?”

“Oh.” He starts tossing it again, spinning it off of his middle finger and letting it smack against his palm satisfyingly. “I’m just playing with my baseball.”

“You play baseball?”

“No. But my dad wanted me to so he got me one when I was little.” He switches it to his left hand, less skilled but trying. He wanted to be ambidextrous someday. 

“Hm. Okay. Well, anyways: why did you attack Jared Kleinman?”

“‘Cause he was staring at me. And because he’s a fucking  _ asshole. _ ” 

Alana can hear Connor grit his teeth on that last word.

“That doesn’t excuse what you did.”

“I’m not trying to excuse what I did.”

“Why not?”

“Why should I?”

“Because you assaulted someone.”

“That’s none of your business-”

“He threw up after you kicked him.”

Connor grimaced. 

“Gross.”

“Yeah, it is. And you caused it.”

“Shut up.”

“Don't tell me to shut up, Connor. Just tell me why you were so angry.”

Alana felt herself getting frustrated with him when she didn’t get a response, the only indication he hadn’t hung up being the small smacks of the baseball he was playing with. 

“.. I have anger issues.” He says finally.

Alana softens. 

“Oh.. I’m sorry, Connor."

“Why the hell are you sorry?”

“It’s out of sympathy.”

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy. It’s not- it’s not like I have a  _ disease _ .”

“Well, technically, you do. You have a  _ mental..  _ Uh- disease. In a way?”

It takes Alana a couple seconds of radio silence for her to realize what she just said.

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry- that came out _really_ badly--”

“Wooowww..”

“No, Connor-”

[CALL ENDED]

Alana groaned, facedesking into her laptop. She was never going to help him at this rate- mental disease?!  _ Alana, what the hell!! _ She scolded herself, picking up her phone and hoping he would pick up.  _ Connor is  _ _ literally _ _ depressed and he has anger issues! You can’t just say stuff like that! You  **know** how those words feel, you **idiot!!** _

[INCOMING CALL: ALANA]

Declined.

[INCOMING CALL: ALANA]

Accepted.

“What the fuck do you want.”

“Connor, don’t hang up on me. I'm sorry—”

“If you fucking say my name one more time I’m gonna reach through the phone and literally strangle you.”

Alana blinked, pausing typing out  _ ‘how to calm someone with anger issues’ _ into the Google search bar.

“Do.. you not like me saying your name?”

An exasperated sigh.

“No.. It’s just- when you say it like  _ that _ .”

“Like what?”

“Like.. y’know.”

“Connor?"

“No, not like that. Just- it doesn’t matter.”

“No, no, it matters!” She tried to reassure, clicking on a wikihow article about ‘Calming an Angry Person’. “Keep talking.”

Connor furrowed his brows.

“Uhm.. Okay? Uh.. what about?”

“.. Maybe about.. Your anger issues?”

A loud groan came from Connor’s side.

“Okay!” Alana backpedals. “Maybe- maybe not  _ that.. _ How about.. Why Jared staring at you made you angry?”

“People stare at me a lot.”

“M-hmm.”

“Like, all the time. And I hate it. It feels like I’m in a circus or something and they’re all just- laughing at me with their eyes and shit.”

“M-hmm.”

“It’s hard to explain. Just-”

“M-hmm.”

“Are you listening?”

“Yes!”

“Okay.. It just sounded like you weren’t because you kept saying ‘m-hmm’ like you wanted me to stop.”

“Oh! No, I was encouraging you!”

“... W-why?”

“Because I want to help you?”

“...”

“So!” Alana chimed, reaching number #7 on the list: ‘Good Listening Techniques’. “Just keep talking. I’m listening.”

“... What if I don't?”

“Huh?”

“What if I don’t wanna talk about that right now.”

“.... T-then..” She scanned the list, sucking in some air through her teeth. It said that forcing a talk out of someone could scare them off, so.. 

“Uh.. you- you don’t have to? I guess? I just thought you would _appreciate_ -”

“Good.”

“.. Appreciate someone to vent to. You must be under a lot of stress.”

“.. Uh- what?”

“Y’know! School and what happened today-”

“Can we drop this?”

“-with Jared and--”

“Please?”

Silence.

Alana stopped scrolling, analyzing the tone in his voice. Although she wanted to question him further and get to the  _ source  _ of the problem, she knew that if she pressed on she’d scare him off. She swallowed her determination and sighed.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”


	7. We Aren't Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor feels Weird and Alana is Stressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for threatened suicide and cutting
> 
> okay!! so i had some technical issues posting this chapter bc of some emojis I used. fuck dude lmao yikes I hate this a lot. Just pretend that in the beginning when u see ALANA and ZOE that next to zoes name is a tounge out happy emoji and next to alana's is two yellow hearts bc theyre cute and good friends and saved eachothers contacts like that. ALSO after Alana says the thing about drowning in homework pretend theres a crying laughing emoji pls
> 
> if you enjoy this fic and wanna see more leave some comments below!! :)

[ ZOE ]:  _'hey alana?'_

[ LANA ]: _‘Yes?’_

_‘Remember what you said yesterday about Connor? Like why hes insane?’_

_‘Yeah?’_

_‘Whyd you ask me that?’_

_‘Because I wanted to get some more information before I tried to deal with him myself.’_

_‘Wait what. Deal with him yourself?’_

_‘Yeah! We’re acquaintances now. I think.’_

_‘Oh my god’_

_‘I talked to him yesterday about it, we didn’t get that far but I made some progress. :-)’_

_‘Alana you two are hanging out??’_

_‘Yes, why?’_

_‘You really shouldnt hang out with him’_

_‘Why not?’_

_‘Hes insane??????? Hes an asshole???? He literally almost decapitated someone yesterday??’_

_‘I’m working on that. I think he’s really starting to warm up to me, actually.’_

_‘what do you mean?’_

_‘I'm helping him. He’s just so... troubled, y’know? I just felt like someone like him deserves a friend :-( or at least someone to vent to!’_

_‘Alana, no... you can't help him. Ive already tried. You don't deserve to deal with him okay?? You already have enough to deal with’_

_‘I’m fine, Zoe. I want to help him.’_

_‘..Okay. just be careful, okay? I know how mean he can be.’_

_‘I will! Don’t worry :-).’_

_‘Okay...’_

 

\----

 

Connor looked at himself in the mirror.

_God, he is ugly._

But not stereotypically ugly, no, he was more of an abstract ugly: gross, thin, hair. Smelled like shit. Droopy, squinty, eyes that were always uneven and pasty white skin. He looked like a corpse; A skeleton with skin stretched over the bones hastily like seran wrap. He shuddered, turning away from his reflection.  _God, he was_ **_ugly_ ** _._

“Honey!! Come downstairs for breakfast!!” His mom called. He rolled his eyes and shouted down that he’d ‘be there in a second!’ (which of course meant he’ll lay in bed and scroll on his phone until she yelled at him again) before shutting his door and laying down in bed, taking out his phone. No new texts.  _Awe..._

As expected, his mother called him down again a couple minutes later, forcing Connor to trudge out of bed and go downstairs. He saw the dinner table from the steps, feeling his blood boil like it did every morning. He hated that fucking table, he hated this fucking ‘eating together’ shit. Why couldn’t Connor just eat somewhere else? Like his room or the couch; It would prevent a lot of arguments.

He slid out his seat and sat down, though, at that hellish table, starting to eat his cereal as his parents talked about something he didn’t care to listen to. He heard his name a couple of times in the conversation, tuning that out too. He hated when his parents talked about him like he wasn’t even there, like he didn’t even matter to this goddamn family...

But, to be fair, he didn’t.

Connor Murphy had been the family disappointment since he threw that printer at Mrs. G in the third grade. Yes, the third. Connor never knew how that detail got muddled in the rumours- he wasn’t even in New York by the second grade. Ever since the printer incident, things went south. He started beating up the other kids, he started bullying his sister, he just felt so  _angry_ and  _numb_ and he could never get rid of those feelings. His mind started getting fucked up by middle school: paranoia and dissociation taking over.

In the seventh grade, he store a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the store. His parents noticed, eventually, but by then he was already addicted to the buzzing in his lungs and the calmness in his head (though temporary).

In tenth he threatened to kill himself for the first time; his dad said he was just doing it for attention. Connor went and cried in his room after that, taking hold of the knife he kept by his bedside just in case of intruders and experimentally slitting his thighs like he had seen online before, hissing at the pain but quickly feeling relief. It was cathartic, watching the blood flow. He soon wiped it up, though, and effectively hid the cuts under his jeans when his mom came in to comfort him. After that, it was therapy session after therapy session, medication after medication, diagnosis after diagnosis and the feelings just got worse.

Connor knew that from the first moment he was diagnosed with depression and anger issues and other things he would be different, an outcast, he would be placed in this special little label for the rest of his life and be closely monitored like a wild dog; ready to snap or kill itself or throw a printer at Mrs. G or ‘shoot up the school’  _or-_

“Fuck off!” Connor stabbed the table, making a horrible noise. His mother startled, almost dropping her cup of coffee.

“Connor, language! And don't stab the table!! I was just asking if you took your medication today...”

Connor twisted the knife out of the wood, growling. “Yeah, I did.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, I did! I just fucking said I—”

“Language!”

“FUCK OFF!”

“Connor!”

“Connor, it's too early for this, please just calm down-”

“Fuck off, Dad!”

“Connor, I have a headache today, don't fucking-”

“Fuck OFF, Zoe!”

“Language —”

Connor stood up with a slam and grabbed his bag and what was left of his toast, downing some milk before storming out the door. Fucking family.

He got into his van and started the engine just to listen to the radio. He found a song he liked and laid back, doing some breathing exercises his mom recommended once. Although he hated her ‘just do yoga’ or ‘look on the brightside!’ approach to his mental health, the breathing actually worked sometimes.

He stayed there until he saw his sister come outside, quickly driving off to school where he continued lazing around in the back until the bell rang and he had to reluctantly leave.

He muscled himself through the halls and slept through most of his classes, daydreaming along to the music in his ear buds until lunchtime, where he went outside to his usual spot. He slowed to a stop when he saw Alana already sitting there.

“Oh- Connor!” She waved him over, beaming with a slightly off smile.

He walked over and sat down next to her- but not too next to her, he wouldn't want to invade her space, and smiled back politely.

“Uh- hi. You're sitting out here today?”

Alana furrowed her brows. “Uh- yeah? Why wouldn't I?”

“Uh… Because… You don't normally sit here? I mean, I know you sat here yesterday because I invited you- uh- asked you but-”

“Yeah?” She says. “I thought you meant you wanted me to sit here with you all the time? I mean I have to get back to my usual lunch group at some point but I like sitting with you? So?”

Connor took a moment to process before he slowly nodded and relaxed back against the bench again.

“Uh- yeah. I did mean that. Sorry, I just thought you wouldn't… want to sit with me.”

Alana gave Connor a worried look, scooting closer to him and putting a hand on his knee. “Connor… Why'd you think that?”

Connor jerks his knee away in an instant, the action going straight to his overactive brain.  _Fuck, fuck, what the fuck? Don't touch my knee, you bitch. Don't call her a bitch, asshole. Shut up, dick-_

“Don't touch me, please.” Was all he could think of to say. Alana ‘oh’d quietly, taking her hand back and resting it in her lap.

“I'm sorry.” She sighed. “I just- sorry, I thought you didn't mind it? Like, that it would help?”

“It—”

“Like in the parking lot!”

Connor tensed. He didn't know why, but talking about that Moment felt off-limits for him- like an unspoken rule. He shook his head, rethinking that idea as foolish.

“In the parking lot.. When we held hands?” Alana clarified. He nodded to let her know he knew.

“You liked that, right...?”

“...” He shifted. “Uhm... I did. But, when we did that you asked first, I guess? So that makes it better than just randomly touching my leg.”

“Oooh...” Alana nods. “Well...”

She puts out her hand for him and he feels that warmth again in his chest, lodged in there like a piece of broken glass. He accepts her hand, intertwining their fingers and letting their hands lay on the bench with them.

Alana smiles at him and suddenly it's Too Much and the warmth digs deeper, turning painful until he jerks his hand away, burned. “Fuck- sorry.” He apologizes hastily, feeling bad for being so fucking weird. He tries to think as to why it suddenly felt that way, but comes up with nothing but paranoid thoughts about how he's ruined everything.

Alana frowns, hand curling into a sad fist. “Did- I'm sorry, what did I do? What happened?”

“You- you didn't do anything wrong, I'm sorry, I just... It was okay and then it wasn't. Like, for me. You did- you did uh… Great. I liked it. For a while. Yeah. I don't know what happened. I'm sorry.”

He ran his hand through his hair, tugging on the roots.

Alana took a moment to respond, as if mulling over his answer.

“Okay.” She says.

She lays her hand out again, giving Connor a smile that made that warmth in his chest twist like a knife. It was just such a  _nice_ gesture; something so innocent and sweet and something Connor Murphy definitely  _didn't_  deserve. Someone  _waiting_ for him and offering him  _affection_  and not in a fake way, in a real, genuine, way that actually made him feel something- fuck. He was feeling something.

He thinks he might have been staring at her now because she slowly tilts her head and asks, “Connor, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He says.

But Connor was Not Fine he was emotional for no good fucking reason and it felt Weird. Not good or bad just  _Weird_.

He eventually took her hand again, though, powering through the overwhelming  _Weird_  that came with it. They ate lunch together and talked somewhat happily about each others favourite TV shows and such, Alana interuppting occasionally to correct him on some TV facts; he didn't mind, though, he wasn't the best at speaking. Turns out he and Alana were both really into history documentaries and sci-fi, who knew?

The lunch bell rang and Connor had to say his goodbyes, sitting down in his class and trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts that started pounding on his skull once his moment of okayness with Alana was over: mostly about his fight with his family and how stupid he must have looked to Alana earlier, jerking his hand away when she was holding it _\- what the fuck was that, Connor? What the fuck is_ **_wrong_ ** _with you?_

Those thoughts dialed down and were replaced with paranoia by the end of the day; he was somewhat grateful for the replacement but still stressed. Couldn’t his brain just, y’know, chill the fuck out for a day??

He got in his van and turned on the radio, laying back and texting Alana.  
  
_‘Hey. whats up?’_

No response.

Connor sighed, setting down his phone and turning up the music to drown out his paranoid thoughts that were just having an absolute field trip with the fact she didn’t respond to his text immediately.

 

\----

 

Alana Beck was in approximately seven AP classes, three after school clubs, two school organizations and volunteered every chance she got with about 2-4 hours of homework to do after each school night. She would like to say that it was easy for someone as smart as her to keep up the A’s and have everything balanced.

But it wasn’t.

Alana was in her after school book club right now, chewing mint gum to keep her mind awake while she read this, quite frankly, horrible book about a girl who was kidnapped and… Well, she didn’t really care about the plot so why waste her energy remembering any of the details? She felt like she was about to pass out, the previous night’s homework tormenting her until it was 4 A.M- two hours past her goal sleep time, which made her freak out and sit under her covers for another hour before she finally was calm enough to pass out and wake up to her alarm an hour later.

The timer went off and everyone set down their books and started talking, except Alana, who had to take an extra two minutes finishing the page she was on before she set it down and turned to her right, putting on a smile before engaging in conversation with Zoe Murphy, her friend.

“Hey, Zoe!” She chirped, tapping her on the shoulder. Zoe turned and smiled. “Hey.”

“What do you think of the book so far?” Alana asked.

Zoe thought. “Mm… I think it’s okay. But I think whoever wrote this is a dumbass. I’ve already found, like, three grammar mistakes.”

Alana laughed robotically. “Me too, it’s really bugging me.”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s awful.”

Zoe laughed and Alana chuckled lightly. They shared a smile before Zoe’s faded, replaced with an anxious expression. Alana didn’t notice, mind drifting. She wished she could just leave this club, leave this school, leave society and all her responsibilities behind right now. It would be so easy, too. Just stand up, walk out, and leave. No more stress, plenty of sleep.

Stand up, walk out, and leave.

Stand up, walk out, and leave.

Stand up, walk out, and leave, Alana. You know you can’t handle this anymore. You haven’t done anything non-school related in forever. It’s killing you- this is killing you- you need to just stand up, walk out, and--

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, interrupting her train of thought. She checked it and saw Connor’s name, an idea coming to her mind instantly.

_‘Nothing much! I’m in book club right now. Do you mind if I ask you something?’_

_‘go ahead.’_

_‘Are you doing anything this weekend?’_

_‘no, why?’_

_‘I know we aren’t friends, but I think we should hang out soon. Like, outside of school.’_

Connor took a lot more time responding to that message than usual, so much time that Alana considered double-texting.

 _‘that’d be nice. Where do you want to go?’_ The message finally appeared, easing Alana.

_‘I don’t know yet. I’ll have to ask my dad tomorrow if I’m even available lol i'm absolutely drowning in homework right now.'_

_‘sorry’_

_‘? Why are you apologizing?’_

_‘It's out of sympathy.’_

Alana stared at the message, busy thumbs pausing. Sympathy?  _Sympathy??_  Being in a lot of homework was- it was a good thing. Well, not for _her_ , but it showed she was smart and was capable of balancing her schedule; that she had everything figured out. Wouldn’t Connor envy that? She was so smart and capable and had her life together and was handling the stress amazingly! Connor would probably crumble under the stress she faced every day, right? Yeah, Connor had no idea what kind of stress she was under. There was no reason to be…  _sorry_ for her...

Alana took a deep breath.

_‘Thank you, I guess. But it’s fine. I know that all the homework will be worth it in the long run lol. I have to get back to my club now so i'll ttyl! :-)’_

_‘okay. ttyl.’_

Connor set down his phone and looked up at his ceiling, radio playing softly in the now cramped car.

They weren’t friends?


	8. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Connor become friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: devorce mention 
> 
> finally they're friends :) also next to Connors name in the contacts ( [Connor] ) pretend theres a hand-holding emoji
> 
> if you enjoy this fic and wanna see more leave some comments below!! :)

“Hey dad, am I free on Sunday?”

“Shouldn’t you know that?”

Alana rolled her eyes. “Well, I would. If you would let me make my own appointments and I didn’t have to ask you every time I wanna do something just in case of a surprise haircut or doctors visit.”

Alana’s Dad laughed, poking a fork at her in an accusatory way. “Alana, you gotta let me do some stuff for you. I’m your dad, after all.”

Alana used her own fork to smack away her dad’s playfully. “I wanna be independant!”

“You are!!”

“Yeah, but I wanna be  _ more  _ independent.”

“If you do anything else around this house I swear you’ll take over the place. Let me do some things!  _ I  _ wanna be an  _ independent woman who don’t need no-” _

“Stoppp!” 

Her dad laughed, mustache curling up with his smile.

Alana laughed too, finding her dad’s laughter contagious; he always laughed from the gut, a homey, welcoming, laugh. Alana finished her breakfast and put it in the sink. “When you’re done, can you put the plate up here so I can wash it later?”

Alana’s dad shook his head. “No, I’m doing dishes. You’re finishing your homework.”

“I can do both!”

“No, you can’t.” He teased.

Alana rolled her eyes and smiled fondly, sitting back down to continue talking to her dad as he ate.

Both were currently sitting at a mini table connected to the kitchen island in their kitchen/dining room, sunlight streaming in from the windows above the cabinets, providing the houseplants that rested on the sil with plenty of energy. They ate here together every morning in the quaint little area, usually staying until Alana had to do her homework or her dad had go work. 

Alana hadn’t always had the best relationship with her family; in the beginning, things were normal: she had two loving parents: her dad, Harold, and her mom, Veronica. They pushed her towards success from a young age, encouraging her and telling her she was  _ so smart _ for being able to read at a higher level than the other kids. And, she was smart. She was _very_ smart. But it was never enough for her. Her parents never rewarded her for doing a good job: doing a good job was expected of her. She knew her parents never meant to push that kind of rhetoric on her, and partly it was her own fault: she had been introduced to social media from a young age and intook many bogus news articles stating that if you didn’t do a good job in school, you would become poor and die. Your college wouldn’t accept you, your applications for jobs would be thrown out, you’d be a worthless piece of society; a failure. Her parents somewhat reinforced this idea that she still believed to this day.

When she was nine her mom got fed up with her dad, cheating on him regularly. At the time, Alana didn’t know what was going on, but now that she was older she could put the pieces together. One week before her tenth birthday, her mom moved away and divorced her dad, leaving her crying on the driveway and later, into her birthday cake; feeling unloved and unimportant. She missed her mother dearly but knew there could be nothing done about it. At least she still had her dad with her, someone whom she loved and who loved her; someone who made that still burning unlovable and unimportant feeling sting less for a day.

She was brought out of her reminiscing by her father’s kiss on her cheek, telling her that he was going to work. She smiled and kissed him back, wishing him a good day as he left. 

The house was quiet with him gone.

She sighed

Tapping out a rhythm with her acrylic nails on the wooden handrail, she went upstairs a few moments later, shutting the door to her room and lying down in her bed with her laptop to start working. She texted Connor before she got invested, however.

_ ‘Hey! I’m free tomorrow :-) Where did you want to hang out?’ _

He didn’t respond. But Alana didn’t expect him to respond immediately, of course. Connor was probably… doing things. She didn’t know what he could be doing but maybe he was taking a nap, or watching netflix, or getting high with friends… If he even had any. Alana smirked to herself subconsciously as she turned around her clock before opening her laptop and getting to work. 

It was fifteen minutes before Connor responded.

_ ‘Idk’ _

_ ‘Maybe my house? Or yours?’  _ Alana suggested.

_ ‘definitely not my house. your house,, will your parents be home?’ _

_ ‘Yes, why?’ _

_ ‘well shit then idk’ _

_ ‘Why can’t my parent be home?’ _

_ ‘Because it's weird’ _

_ ‘It's really not...’ _

No response for five minutes.

_ ‘I know this arcade we could go to? It’s retro and has this dark 80’s aesthetic so...’ _

_ ‘i mean idk if arcades are your thing but’ _

_ ‘No, no! An arcade sounds fun :-)’ _

_ ‘k.’ _

_ ‘U want me to pick you up?’  _ He double texted.

_ ‘Sure! Is 11 okay?’ _

_ ‘That’s really early’ _

_ ‘It’s not?? It’s the afternoon?’ _

_ ‘I wake up at like 12 on weekends. How abt 2?’ _

_ ‘1:30’ _

_ ‘K. but i miht be late.’ _

_ ‘That’s fine! Just not too late, please? I’ll see you then :-)’ _

_ ‘yeah :)’ _   
  


\----   
  


Connor was at Alana’s house at 1:50, honking the horn until Alana came out, looking at him sternly before getting in. 

“Connor, don’t honk at me.” She buckled her seatbelt, sending off a text before looking at him. He was backing out.

“Sorry.” He apologized belatedly, meaning it but keeping his voice flat. 

“It’s fine.” She said, not meaning it but making her voice sound like she did.

She looked over at him, eyes going wide.

“CONNOR!”

Connor slammed on the break, jolting his body into the wheel. He wheezed and sat back in his seat, looking over at Alana. 

“W-What?? What is it??”

“Your seatbelt isn’t on.”

Connor stared, dumbfounded, and glanced to where his seatbelt should be. “I-... yeah, it- I didn’t really feel like…. Putting it on??”

Alana huffed and reached over, buckling him in. “Safety. first.”

Connor chortled, absolutely baffled by Alana Beck and her conviction to safety. He kept a smile on his face for a while, scrunched up eyes and strange brows before he shrugged, shook his head, and kept driving towards the arcade.

Ten minutes into the awkwardly silent drive Alana asked if she could turn on the radio. Connor nodded enthusiastically, as if he’d been waiting for her to ask that exact question.

Alana turned it on, heavy metal bass blasts attacking her ears immediately. Connor smiled, pleased at the loudness and actually turning it up a few notches. Alana felt her whole body lock up, hands pressed into her ears. 

“O-oh my god...” She gasped. “That’s so f… That’s so freaking _loud_. Hh...”

Connor looked over while they were at a stoplight, pleased look turning to concern quickly.

“Uh- are you okay...?”

Alana blinked a couple times, still trying to press her hands further into her ears.  _ Too Loud Too Loud Too Loud It’s Too Loud!! _

Connor turned off the radio timidly.

“... Alana?”

_ HOOOONKK _

Connor yiped and slammed on the gas again, rocking them both. He yelled a ‘fuck you’ to the guy behind them before putting his eyes back on the road. Alana was slowly unlocking, bass still reverberating in her ears. 

“...Are you okay?” Connor asked with much more softness than Alana would expect, glancing over.

Alana nodded stiffly. “I... Don't like loud noises.”

“Oh. Uh- oh my god, I'm so sorry… Shit...” He bit his lip, curling into himself in guilt. “Uhh…. Do- do you still… want the radio on? I can make it really quiet..?”

Alana took a few moments to respond, finally relaxing.

“Yeah. Just—  _ really  _ quiet...”

Connor nodded slowly, as if moving too quickly would hurt her again. He pulled into the arcade parking lot and set the volume at 1. Alana smiled at him after a few minutes of calming down.

“Thank you. But, we're here.”

Connor blushed. “Yeah, I know...”

He turned off the car and got out with Alana, walking in.

The arcade was dimly lit by neon signs and small lights here and there, the walls were red with 80s revival style patterns on them. The games that lined the walls in rows seemed to glow too. A pool table was by the wall.

“Wow...” Alana nodded her head, looking around as Connor got them some coins. “Looks aesthetic.”

Connor returned and nodded back. “Mhmm. And it’s empty most of the time.”

Alana looked around again, only now noticing the lack of people. Huh. Weird. 

Connor followed her to the games, finding a two player ‘cute-em-up’ game in the corner. Connor put in a quarter, taking P2. Alana grinned at him.

“I'm gonna beat you.”

Connor sniggered.

“It's a co-op game, dumbass.”

Alana tsked, looking away, embarrassed

“Well— uh, I didn't… Know that.”

Connor smirked. “But… I'll get a better score than you.”

Alana grinned, competitiveness back. “Nuh-uh! I'll get a better score than  _ you _ .”

In the end, Alana got a higher score, but Connor had a smirk on his face. He let her win. But Alana didn't need to know that.

Alana looked so happy when she won, her eyes shone through her glasses and she beamed like a star. Connor felt a nice warmth- not stabbing- in him when he looked over at his friend so happy.

… His friend.

Connor frowned, remembering that they weren't friends, apparently; and that wasn't just Connor's paranoia telling him that this time. Alana had _actually_ said they  _ weren't _ _friends_...

“Connor? Connor, you need to help me shoot!!”

Connor jolted, looking up at a Game Over screen and then at Alana, draped over the console dramatically.

“Connor!! We were almost at level four!!” She languished only half-jokingly.

Connor stared at her, black nails tapping against the controller.

Alana eventually picked up that something was wrong, furrowing her brows and pursing her lips.

“Are you okay? We can play another game, if you'd like...”

“No, no... I...” Connor sighed, taking his hand off of the controller and stuffing it into his pocket. Every fibre in his being was telling him to shut up at the risk of being emotionally vulnerable, or hurt. But, he pressed on.

“Can I ask you something?”

Alana nodded. “Mhmm, go ahead!”

“...”

“When... You- uh, invited me... To… Hang out. You said we weren't friends? I uh- I thought we were. So...”

Alana frowned again, putting a hand on his shoulder. They both pulled back.

“Sorry, I — you don't like being touched.

“It's fine. Just fucking  _ ask _ .”

Alana eyes went self conscious and she seemed to get smaller, but straightened her back anyways to seem like she was okay. Connor sighed.

“...So... Are we friends or not?”

“I don't know.” She said casually. Mockingly casually in Connor's eyes.

Connor sucked in some air through his teeth, knowing that this was coming. Why the hell would Connor Murphy have a friend? Especially one as put together as Alana. He felt sadness well up in his stomach, climbing his throat until it shifted towards a defensive anger. He growled.

“Cool. Fine. Yeah, okay. _Fuck_ you.”

He kicked the console and headed towards the doors. Alana followed him, not protesting as they headed outside. She didn't want to cause a scene around the nobody in the building.

Connor turned around when they reached the curb, studying Alana's face. She looked tired, but sympathetic. Connor felt a jolt of anger hit him again, pulling on his body like strings to a puppet as he kicked her half heartedly, telling her to fuck off again.

Alana held out her hand.

“...I uh- didn't know if you thought of  _ me  _ as a friend, Connor. So… That's why we aren't friends. At least, not yet. I'd  _ like  _ to be friends with you though! If, you'd want to.”

Connor stared.

“...”

He took a deep breath, some unhealthy part of him telling him that he'd look like a pussy if he just gave in so easily. He should throw a whole fit and punch her in the face. That'd show her. The strings of unpredictable anger tugged on his body to do so, but he took out the energy in tugging on his hair and ear instead, tapping with his foot defiantly.

“...Yeah, okay.” He said finally, not looking at her.

He took her hand, somewhat forcefully because of the anger still yanking on him.

Alana smiled and gave it a soft squeeze. Connor felt like he was gonna cry. But, not really. Only a small moment he felt that way before he pushed it down into his Feelings Bottle to be released later as a meltdown.

“So, we're friends?” Alana asked.

“Are we?” Connor replied.

“If you want us to be.”

“... I do.”

“Me too. We're... Friends, then?”

“Yeah. Sorry about- storming out. I do that a lot. I don't know, like, why.”

“Yeah.” 

Alana smiled sweetly, a certain smugness behind it that went unnoticed as she led him back inside and kept playing with him until Connor was smiling with her again.

  
  


\----

  
  


They left the arcade a couple hours later, driving back with the radio playing at a reasonable level, bass off. Alana noticed Connor’s smile on his face as they drove back, how he would occasionally mouth the words to songs he knew, or tap his hands on the wheel. She felt accomplishment well up in her chest; he was happy! Finally, he was happy and they were friends. Of course, she still had a long way to go before fixing- er-  _ helping  _ Connor fully, but she could be patient. 

They pulled into Alana’s driveway, Connor looking over, cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling slightly.

Alana met the look by holding his hand, which Connor adored. She cleared her throat.

“Hey, Connor? Since we’re friends now, can I ask you something?”

Connor nodded.

“Are you happy? Like, are you okay now?”

Connor’s furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“Like… you were sad before and now everything's better, right? Well, not everything. I mean you still have a lot... going on.” She chuckled lightly.

Connor tilted his head to the side, slightly unsettled.   


“Uh… you mean when I left the arcade ‘cause I was mad...? Like, if I feel better?”

“Well, yes, that too.”

“...Yes?”

Alana beamed and squeezed his hand, causing him to blush again. 

“Good!” She chimed. “I’m glad I could help.”

She got out of the car after that, Connor waving to her with a slightly befuddled expression, but still fond, before driving back home.

  
  


\----

  
  


11:47 P.M

[Connor ]:  _ ‘hey alana? what did you mean when you asked me if everything was better now or whatever’ _

[Connor ]: _ ‘sorry if this is annoying or whatever but its been bugging me’ _

[Alana]: _ ‘It’s not annoying. :-) I was just asking about your mental state. Since you have depression and other things I was hoping to make you happy today!’ _

_ ‘oh uh thanks? I mean depression doesn’t mean i'm sad like... All the time. I mean kind of but... Not normal sad kinda? So i'm fine?’ _

_ ‘Well, I still made you happy didn’t I?’ _

_ ‘I guess yeah. Sorry.’ _

_ ‘You guess?’ _

_ ‘Yeah?’ _

_ ‘I thought I made you happy?’ _

_ ‘You did.’ _

_ ‘Then why a ‘I guess’?’ _

_ ‘Because i don't really understand the question? Youre giving me some fucking bad vibes rn alana wtf’ _

_ ‘?? What do you mean? :-(’ _

_ ‘Idk. sorry.’ _

_ ‘just uh... idk. don't try to worry too much abt me’ _

_ ‘Too late, Connor. ;-) ive already made helping you my #1 priority! (other than homework haha)’ _

_ ‘Helping me? With what.’ _

_ ‘Depression, etc’ _

_ ‘I already have meds i'm fine’ _

_ ‘Yeah, but medication can’t fix everything, can it? You need support and friends, etc etc.’ _

_ ‘I have friends.’ _

_ ‘Aren’t I your only friend?’ _

_ ‘What the fuck’ _

_ ‘? Is something wrong?’ _

_ ‘Are you fucking mocking me.’ _

_ ‘No. What’s wrong?’ _

_ ‘It's pretty fucking rude to assum eim a lonely depressed bastard, dickhead.’ _

_ ‘Stop cussing me out >:-( and you’re not a b*stard.’ _

_ ‘But i'm lonely and depressed?’ _

_ ‘Yes? You have depression and i’m assuming i’m your only friend.’ _

Connor didn’t respond.

_ ‘Connor? Are you okay?’ _

_ ‘I was just assuming- if you have more friends that’s great!’ _

[11:56 P.M]

_ ‘Connor? Did my message get through? If I sent something rude, I'm sorry!' _

[12:00 A.M]

_ ‘Goodnight, Connor. :-) I’m assuming you’re asleep. Sweet dreams!’ _


	9. Fuck You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship is complicated and neither Alana nor Connor know how it works

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that this chapter is a bit short! I would make it longer but that would be adding a lot of unnessecary filler so..
> 
> also next to connors name in the text logs pretend theres a holding hands emoji. There's no emojis next to Alanas bc connors an edgy bitch who doesnt use emojis lol 
> 
> also i don't own deh all characters go to rightful owners pasek and paul
> 
> as always, leave a comment below telling me what you think about this fic! Those comments keep me going and make me want to write more-- so just comment! :D

Connor Murphy didn't have many friends- in fact, other than people he met on the internet, he only had one: Alana Beck. Alana seemed like a nice person, someone who actually cared about Connor and wanted him to be happy. But who'd wanna be friends with someone like Connor Murphy? Him, someone who punches lockers and gets into fights and storms out on conversations randomly. Him, someone who's high half of the time and who's addicted to cigarettes. Him, Connor Murphy, school freak. Who'd wanna make him happy? Who'd put all their energy into someone like him without having something to get out of it? Connor was determined to find that shred of darkness behind Alana's peppy and friendly façade- even if it was just a speck, it was proof enough that Alana was out for blood.

Connor opened his locker, staring into the dark corners of the deep blue paint. Some optimistic part of him reminded him of the moment in the parking lot, the time at the arcade, their calls, and her sweet goodnight last night. Connor's brain examined the evidence that maybe something good was happening to him once- that someone would actually, with no bad intentions, want to be his friend and then immediately shot it down, murdering that optimism and burying it in a shallow grave.

He put his forehead against the cool metal, shutting his eyes and trying to take one fraction of peace from the world, just for a moment.

“Hi, Connor!”

Connor looked down at his ‘friend’. So much for peace. She was peppy, as usual, standing on her tiptoes and looking up at him. 

“Did you not get my texts last night?”

“I did. Sorry, I was just… Tired. So.” He shut the locker slowly. 

Alana nodded understandingly.

“That’s fine. Can I touch you?”

“Uh… sure?”

Alana pat him on the back briefly then attempted to hold his hand eagerly; like it was something cool.

Connor jerked his hand away despite the need for touch.

“...Not right now, sorry. I gotta get to class.”

Alana frowned as he left, sighing in frustration. She thought they were finally making progress… Maybe she should just approach this differently; tell him straight on her intentions. Honestly is always the best policy, after all and Connor was sure to understand eventually that she had his best interests at heart.

 

\----

 

Alana sat down next to Connor on their bench. Connor didn’t greet her with the same enthusiasm he usually did, sitting aloofly on the bench with his phone and giving a small wave.

Alana ignored this and scooted close to him.

“Connor, I wanna clear some things up with… our friendship? You seemed pretty confused earlier so I think I should explain.”

Connor looked up and nodded curtly, eyes coldly examining her and ears ready to dissect her words until they twisted into what he expected.

“So…” She started. “When I first spoke to you I wanted to comfort and help you- you had just stormed out and you were mad… So I thought I’d be there for you? Y’know? And… now I am. So, I’m just trying to be here for you, like, if you ever need someone to vent to or…”

Connor cut her off.

“You do realize i'm, like, an actual person, right?”

Alana blinked, trying to switch conversation tracks mentally.

“...Yes? What do you mean?”

“Like, I’m not constantly going through a mental breakdown- I’m an actual fucking person. I’m, like... more than what’s wrong with me and shit? I know that sounds cheesy but, like, it’s true. You know that, right?”

Alana stared at him, confused. 

“Uhm… I get what you’re saying but… I’m confused.”

Connor pocketed his phone, leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees, chin cradled in his folded hands.

“Why are you trying to be friends with me? Like, are you only friends with me for some dumb school project or… maybe you saw a video on depression and suicide and thought you’d fucking do something? Or… like, are you just trying to gather dirt on me to spread around the school? Like, what’s your  _ deal _ ?”

Alana frowned, scooting closer and hovering her hand over his back until he gave a reluctant nod. She rubbed his back warmly, but Connor could only see the pity in the gesture.

“Connor… I’m here to help you, is all… This isn’t a school project- I don’t know what school project would entail me making friends with someone- and i’m not a gossip...

“...So, the second thing?”

“...Well, yes? Essentially? You’re depressed and-- oh my god.” She gasped. “Are you suicidal?? Oh my god, Connor, do I need to call someone??”

Connor cringed away from her. She continued.

“Wait!” She facepalmed. “I’m sorry- uh... That was a big assumption... But, I mean, are you?? Are you okay?” She put a hand on his back again without asking. “You can tell me, really, if anythings wrong? I’ve done a lot of research into mental health and-”

“Stop."

“-I think I can, like, help you; if you’re comfortable-”

“Alana.”   


“I mean, if you aren’t that’s totally fine; I just wanna he--”   
  
“Shut  _ UP _ !” He shoved her off the bench, attracting the attention of the courtyard. He looked around and growled, as if that would scare them off. He turned back to Alana, nails digging into his palms.

Alana got up, reaching for him. “Connor, calm down!”

“I fucking knew it.” He sneered. “You never wanted to be my friend- you just wanted to help the fucking crazy kid to make yourself feel better, is that it!? That once I  _ trusted  _ you you could tell your friends about how much of a freak I am and- and--” He kicked the ground harshly. “Fuck you!”

He grabbed his bag and left, reaching for his lighter in his pocket. 

Alana considered chasing after him, as she was accustomed to doing by this point, but Connor seemed like he couldn't be reasoned with right now. She sighed and brushed off her dress, sat down on the bench, and looked up what to do while she ate her lunch, ignoring the strong urge to fix this right away that grew like a parasite in her stomach. What did she do wrong...? 

 

\----

 

[Weird (Alana)]: _ ‘Connor? Hey, can we talk?’ _

[Connor]: _ ‘just tell me what you want to tell me here. I don't want to call.’ _

_ ‘Alright, but it might be a couple paragraphs.’ _

_ ‘You can break it up in texts if you want.’ _

_ ‘I don't like to double text. It's unorganized.’ _

_ ‘I’ _

_ ‘Don’t _

_ ‘Mind’ _

_ ‘Haha’ _

_ ‘Connor please don't do that it's hard to read.’ _

_ ‘Ugh. Just tell me what you wanted to tell me.’ _

_ ‘Well, I wanted to apologize for making you angry earlier, I was just trying to explain how I'm helping you and why I'm your friend. I'm sorry if I came off as rude. But, even if I did there was no reason to shove me. However, I truly do want to help you, Connor, and be here for you if you need someone. So, can we just let go of what happened earlier and move on? I don't want this to be the end of our friendship.’  _

Alana re-read that message three times before sending, biting her lip and hoping that was good enough. The minutes passed, her anxiousness growing.

_ ‘So the only reason you're my friend is because I'm depressed?’  _ He finally responded.

_ ‘No! I didn’t say that at all!’ _

_ ‘So, if I didn't need ‘help’ anymore, you wouldn't be friends with me?’ _

_ ‘I'd still be friends with you, yes. But I didn’t say that earlier thing.’ _

_ ‘What if I didn't have depression in the first place? Still, then?’ _

_ ‘Yes, I think.’ _

_ ‘Are you lying to me’ _

Before Alana could respond, he texted again.

_ ‘Y'know what, it doesn't matter. I don't fucking like this and I'm out. Don't text me again. Bye.’ _

_ ‘Connor, please, don't do this.’ _

[Weird (Alana)]: _ ‘Connor??’ _

[Weird (Alana)]: _ ‘I'll see you at school tomorrow. We'll talk then.’ _

 

\----

 

Connor didn’t go to school the next day. He went out and drove his van to his favourite spot to skip school at: Buddy’s Cliff. It was mostly empty so it was perfect to just hang out at until school was over. He laid in the back, smoking a blunt he had rolled earlier that day and trying to hotbox himself to sleep; with his other hand he was scrolling through the Wikipedia article on why Buddy’s Cliff was called Buddy’s Cliff-- apparently some kid named Buddy jumped off of it in the 50’s. Huh. He looked out the front, examining the fenced off cliff’s edge. He could totally see how someone would jump off of that... or drive off.

He laid back down, ignoring his phone that lit up with text notifications that were probably from Alana. His now ex-new-best-friend or whatever.

Connor Murphy didn’t know why he was the way he was; maybe it was the depression, or the anger issues, or the possible BPD, or his family, or just him.  _ Wouldn’t that suck? _   If his whole life he blamed everything on everyone around him- every time he acted out or did something he should not have-- and it turned out it was just him. All along. That from birth he was destined to be a shitty person with a shitty life, skipping school, doing drugs, and planning on dying young; and not in a cool way, either, no, Connor Murphy didn’t deserve to ‘Die Young’ like in those overplayed pop songs: driving down the highway at 100 mph with tons of friends, having the time of your life and then careening off the side of the road and ending up in a horrible wreck yet still looking tragically beautiful. No, Connor Murphy deserved to ‘die young’ in the sense of him swallowing some pills and crying himself to death pathetically, not one person even caring he was gone. That’s the death he deserved.

He took a smooth pull of his blunt into his lungs, letting the smoke waft around. What was he thinking about again? Dying? Yeah, seemed about right.

His phone was vibrating now from a call that he couldn’t be bothered to answer. It was probably Alana anyways- the one person who actually cared about him. 

Except, no, she didn’t. She was using him. She was a gossip. She was out to get him and by pushing her away; he was protecting himself. Right, yeah, she was the one in the wrong here. The one that wanted to hurt him. He was right to push her out of his life.

….

“Fuck.”

He set down his blunt, pressing his cool hand over his eyes. 

“Fuuuuck…”

He missed her.

He  _ really  _ missed her.

But he couldn’t just say ‘I’m sorry for snapping at you’ or some shit like that, could he? He’d be a coward if he didn’t keep his promise of not talking to her- he’d be a fucking loser. He’d be a weak chicken-shit little bitch if he owned up to his mistakes and actually tried to be reasonable for once.

The phone stopped.

Connor pounded his fist against the car floor, face scrunched up like he was going to cry- he wouldn’t let himself, though. Crying was pathetic- especially over something he couldn’t fix. I mean, sure, he  _ wanted  _ to pick up the phone and be friends with her again and hold her nice, soft, reassuring, hand and stand in the parking lot with her and--

He sniffed, sitting up and kicking the car doors to let out some emotional restlessness. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. Fuck crying. Fuck this. Fuck her, fuck life, fuck him--

“Fuck!”

He laid down and pulled his hoodie over his head again to block out the taunting noise of his phone.

 

\----

 

Alana gripped her phone tightly in her fist, putting enough power in it to shatter the screen that read ‘Calling…’ over and over again. Connor Murphy was a real annoyance- a real pain in the butt that wouldn't  _ be  _ a pain if he just understood what she was trying to DO! She stomped her foot, aggravated, and pocketed her phone so she didn’t fling it at the nearest wall to release her anger. 

She stomped back into class, trying to control her posture which was begging to be hunched over; but she wouldn't allow it- if she slouched she would be seen as unprofessional and it would probably give her scoliosis or something.

She sat down in her desk and picked up her pencil, tapping it furiously against her forearm so it wasn’t too loud but still released all the built up frustration. Connor couldn’t skip forever, she’d talk to him soon; and when she did she’d chew his ear off for being such a pain. After all she did for him- what does she get in return? A hug? Friendship? The fulfilling feeling of helping someone? No! She gets a shove, a ‘fuck you’, and embarrassed in front of the whole courtyard! If Alana was sensible, she would have taken the supposed hint by now and tried to find someone new to ‘help’. But, Alana Beck was not one to give up on anything, even if it was hopeless. She knew she could do anything.

She could even help someone as unfixable as Connor Murphy.


	10. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets fucked up and finds a cat. Alana doesn't understand emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey im gonna put notes @ the beginning and end now lmao 
> 
> tw: cutting mention, alcohol, drugs, and blood
> 
> i dont own deh all rights go to pasek and paul

A week later, Connor Murphy finally showed up at school. He looks worse than usual, which is saying a lot considering his usual was ‘corpse that just came back to life’. He had red around his eyes, some new ripped up bruises on his knuckles, and he absolutely _reeked_ of pot. Seemingly everyone stared as he walked down the halls, holding their breath as to not inhale the scent or maybe catch the plague from the zombie that was Connor Murphy. 

Connor ignores the eyes watching him, occasionally holding up his middle finger at the few who are blatantly staring. The hallways clear and only one person is left: Alana.

Connor steels himself, reminding himself that he hates her and starts to walk past. She whirls Connor around with an unusual amount of strength someone as small as her shouldn't possess within a few steps, knocking the air out of Connor momentarily.

“Connor. We need to talk.”

“Fu—”

“First of all, how _dare_ you not respond to my texts- I texted you every. Single. Hour. And I _know_ you read them because your read receipts were on- _and_ you even texted me ‘’checkmark’ Read At 7:00’; which was extremely cruel! Secondly,”

Connor squirmed, trying to get out of her grasp. She dug her nails into his arms.

“SECONDLY. You haven't been at school for a week! What the hell is wrong with you? You're throwing away your future here! You need to go to school everyday or you'll end up a hobo!”

“I might hon—”

“Shut up! I'm _talking_!” Alana growled. “Thirdly, or- th- whatever. You smell like pot! I thought I told you not to do that anymore! Did you know smoking weed drops your IQ by as many as TEN points!?”

“It's eight. And that's not tru—”

“It's eight. Yes. I knew that, you pothead. But of course _you_ knew it because you smoke!”

“Yeah,”

“Shut up!” She gripped him tighter.

“Fourthly,”

“That's not a-”

“ _SHUT UP!”_

Her voice echoed in the hall as she panted, fury in her usually kind eyes. Her yellow nails dug into Connor's skin hard enough to make him bleed.

Then, they released.

She sighed, taking her glasses off to rub at her eyes in frustration.

“You're not listening, are you? You're too high to.”

“That's-”

“Sh. I already know you can't hear me. I.. I just want to help you, okay? You look _awful_.”

Connor kept quiet.

“.. Well?”

“....” Connor furrowed his brows, opening his mouth to speak.

“Exactly.” Alana interrupted before he could even speak. “Too high to speak. Let me..”

She took a small spray can of Febreze out of her bag and sprayed him with it. He sputtered, swatting away the freshly smelling mist. She put it back once he didn't smell as bad and huffed.

“The hell's your problem!?” Connor shouted, wiping his eyes of febreze. _Who the hell carries around Febreze in their fucking bag??_

“You're welcome.” Alana said importantly, hoisting her backpack up as the bell rang. “I expect to see you at lunch."

....

"And I'm.. sorry for yelling.” She left.

Connor let her go, absolutely flabbergasted, and went to his car.

 

\----

 

[Febreeze (Alana)]: _‘hey Connor I've been thinking and I might have come off as rude earlier. If I did I'm sorry.’_

[Febreeze (Alana)]: _‘I know you won't respond but I missed you at lunch today. :-( hope you'll come back tomorrow.’_

Connor grimaced at the messages, setting down his phone and sighing.

 

\----

 

Connor feels possessed.

His body burns with urges he hates and he’s about to vomit due to the amount of emotions welling up in his throat. Or the alcohol, whichever comes first. He feels as if his body has been taken over by all the worst parts of himself for the past two weeks, avoiding Alana, fighting with his parents, tormenting his sister, cutting more than usual. He’d like to say this was out of the ordinary for him, but it wasn’t. The only unusual thing about all this is how long it’d been going on.

That’s why he was outside now, taking a long walk at ten o’clock at night with alcohol in his stomach and smoke in his lungs. He knew that taking these fucked up intoxicated walks probably wasn’t the best coping mechanism or way to ‘let go’ after a hard week; but he didn’t know any other way.

He was walking down the sidewalk now, passing houses he didn’t recognize, hunched over and wobbling like a zombie- nearly dead. The houses were all really nice, some having pretty gardens with actual fruit in them and others with perfectly manicured lawns. In front of him was a street corner with a light blue lamppost. Connor tilted his head, finding himself drawn to the glow. He settled under the light, neck craned to look directly at it.

After a few seconds- or maybe minutes- a rustling in the bushes nearby broke him out of his trance. He blinked, seeing miniature lamp posts in his vision. Great. More rustling came from beside him and he slowly turned his head to the lawn where the noise came from, manicured to perfection with a cute brown-ish red house at the end of the stone walkway; a brown fence surrounding it with shrubbery littered between and around the planks intricately. Two small eyes peered out from the nearest bush, revealing themselves to belong to a black cat, sleek and mysterious with an otherworldly aura around it as it walked in front of Connor. He watched it in awe, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees. The cat slowly went to the curb, pausing there for a moment as if pondering something before it crossed to the other side of the street.

Connor stood, having to brace himself against the lamp post as he watched it camouflage into the shadows. He kept still for a moment before he felt himself moving after the cat. He didn’t have anything else better to do, so why not? Plus, that cat seemed to know exactly what it was doing.

He caught up the with the cat, keeping a distance between them so he wasn’t seen. The cat padded into the grass, stopping to sniff at a flower. Connor followed suit, sniffing at the flower after it. It smelled really nice and he looked back at the cat with the same gaze he would use for finally understanding a profound work of art. He examined how the cat was moving for a moment, his high coming to a climax, and decided to also do that. He put his hands on the cold ground and chuckled in obscure amusement before he crawled after the cat. Every part of him told him he looked stupid, but he knew that already and was just trying to have fun for once. The cat led him down Carly St., then Amber Dr., then west towards Elmwood Ave., and finally onto this street, which he didn’t know the name of.

At some point he had gotten up from crawling, the pavement hurting his knees combined with the insecurity of crawling after a cat like a weirdo didn’t make this night any more fun. This night was more fascinating than fun to be honest: so far he’s gotten a push-up popsicle from 7/11 (he hasn’t had those since he was a kid!), saw someone watching TV in their garage and fixing their truck, a house with twelve get-out signs and now he was following a probably magical cat to who knows where. Tonight was pretty alright.

He smiled, stopping on the curb with the cat and sitting down.

“I’m gonna name you something, cat.” He yawned, scratching the back of his head. “Like... midnight. Or... Shadow... Or, like, uhhhh...” He sucked some air in through his teeth. “Uhh... d-dark? I dunno, man. Can you tell me your name or-” He looked over. The cat wasn’t there.

“Oh, shit!” He stood up too quickly, vision blotting. When it came back he saw the cat on the other side of the street, walking quickly.

“Fuck!” He gasped. “No!!” He ran across the street towards the cat. “Come back here, you little shit!”

The cat broke out into a run, much faster than Connor. But Connor wasn’t going to let the cat get away; this cat was important, this cat knew what it was doing and was so fucking cool and... goddamnit, Connor just really loved animals. He watched as the cat leapt down into a hole in a chain link fence, popping out the other side and scampering away. Connor put his boot in one of the links, grunting as he hoisted himself up to the top. He brought down his hand, expecting smooth metal to jump over but found his whole arm in barbs.

He stumbled forward. Panicked. Thousands of tiny spikes dug into his torso. With a yell, his foot slipped out of the link and hurled him onto the pavement.

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. His upper body stung, small dots of blood littering it with intermittent long scrapes. Some of the barbs had irritated his self-harm scars, reopening them, which really fucking sucked.

He stared up at the blank night sky for a couple minutes, breath rocking his body and warmth dripping down his arms and face. He lifted his left arm, slowly grabbing his phone. He needed to call someone- anyone. His first thought was to call 9-1-1, but going to the hospital would cost money and it’d wake up his parents and he was _super_ drunk right now and _underage_ \-- so that wasn’t happening.

He scrolled through his contacts, barely reading the names. He had hardly anyone here, and the people he did have wouldn’t care enough to drive out here or he didn’t wanna bother. He whined and just selected the only one that seemed okay, putting the phone up to his ear and letting his blood warm hand fall to the cooling concrete.

  
\----  


Connor and Alana haven’t talked to each other in two weeks. Each time Alana tried to text him, he ignored it, each time she tried to come up to him in school, he ran. In class when she threw a note at his desk, he ate it while making eye contact with Alana for a disturbingly long time- which successfully made her stop bothering him for the rest of the period.

Alana was starting to finally get the hint. Connor didn’t want anything to do with her, he didn’t want to be friends, he didn’t want to be helped, she had completely ruined her chance and Connor had officially blocked her number now. She laid on her bed, taking her fifteen minute break from homework on this Friday night, considering adding five extra minutes for emotional turmoil. She had failed. She failed Connor Murphy and it _hurt_ . It stung _deep_ in the most insecure parts of her soul: she **Failed.**

Her phone vibrated next to her and she sighed, shutting her eyes. She didn’t want to deal with any spam calls right now. She’d wait it out.

It rang again after she let the first one go. She kept her eyes shut, mind considering that maybe it wasn’t spam- spam only calls once.

When her phone rang a third time she groaned, reaching over for her phone and glancing at the screen boredly.

_‘[CONNOR] IS CALLING...’_

 

Alana gasped, picking up the phone.

“Hello?? Connor? Why did you call me-”

“Alana…”

“Are you okay? You sound horrible.”

“Alana… I think I’m dying..."

Alana’s breath caught in her throat. “What? Holy crap, Connor, what’d you do?? What’s wrong? Are you okay?? What can I do? Why are you calling me?”

“...”

“Connor??”

“...Uh... I- I tried to... Jump a fence. But it... Uh... There was a cat and...”

“Connor, you sound delirious. What’s going on?”

“I’m drunk.”

“Oh.” Alana sat back down on her bed, pinching her brows together. “Then, Connor, you’re not dying.”

“Yes, I am... I’m bleeding and... I can’t move...”

“You- what?”

“I tried to jump a fence causze... There wasz this cool cat, right...? And uh- it had spikes on it so now I’m bleeding and I don’t... K-know where I ammm...” He slurred.

“... Okay, do you need me to come get you?”

“Yes... I mean, I don’t _neeeeed_ it ‘causze I don’t need... _You._ But... I need to.. not die here...”

“Okay, Connor. Where are you?”

“I’m...”

…

“I’m on... E-emery...? Lane?? I think...? I’m near it, at least...”

“Connor, I don’t know where that is. Please, give me a nearby address.”

“Okay...”

Alana got up, putting on her jacket and wiping the sweat from her forehead. She could hear shuffling over the line and some pained whines before Connor answered.

“508... Emery Lane...”

“Got it. I’ll be over there soon. Stay on the line with me, okay?”

“Uh... Okay.”

Alana pocketed her phone, scurrying downstairs and hurriedly grabbing her keys. Her dad looked up from the TV, eyebrow cocked.

“And where are you going at 11 o’clock tonight, missy?”

Alana groaned.

“I’m going out to save a friend, dad. He hurt himself and he called me to come pick him up.”

“What? Who??”

“The boy I went to the arcade with?”

“Well, you’re not going out there without me.”

Alana stiffened. Shoot. If her dad saw him drunk: he’d never let them hang out again.

“I-I’m responsible enough, dad!”

“Yeah, but he might not be!”

“I’ll send you texts every two minutes? Or, uhm, I’ll let you talk to him? He’s on the phone right now.” She prayed that he didn’t sound _too_ drunk.

Her dad pondered Alana’s offer before nodding firmly.

“Yeah, let me see that.” He said, sticking his hand out for her phone. She put it in his hand.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Huh... ?”

“Who is this? What’s your name?”

“Uh... fuck, dude, who are _you?_ ”

“I asked you first.”

Alana’s dad mouthed to Alana that Connor was a ‘potty mouth’ and Alana quickly explained that even though he used bad words, he wasn’t a bad person.

She needed to leave. Now.

“Uh... okay... I’m Connor.”

“I’m Harold, Alana’s dad.”

“Ohhh ssshit. Uh-- I mean, nice to meet you... Is she on her way...? I’m losing a lot of blood...”

“You are?”

“Yeah... I tried to fucking-- uh- I mean... I tried to jump a fence to chase this cool cat I found and then... It had ssspikes on it... ”

Harold tsked and chewed this over. He probably sounded like just a harmless, stupid, teenager, to him. He sighed and handed the phone back to Alana.

“Be back soon and text me.”

Alana beamed and gave the thumbs up, running to her car and driving off to ‘508 Emery Lane’.

When she gets there, her headlights glaze over a body who she assumes is Connor, laying on the ground with some blood spots around it. She yanks the shift into park and jumps out, heart pumping in her ears.

“Connor!!”

Connor jerks up, head twisting to see Alana. He smiles weakly, reaching out for her.

“Hey... I’m a dumbass.”

“Yes, you are.” She says, voice cracking as she sees all the blood and his self-harm scars. She thinks to comment on them and scold him, but she knew him getting home was more important. She drags him to his feet and leads him to the car, buckling him in and turning back towards home.

She stops at an intersection, face scrunched into repressed anger. Her hands are gripping the wheel so tight they may break it.

“What the hell is wrong with you.” She says before she can stop herself, jerking her head over to Connor. Connor is staring at her vacantly, like he’s possessed. She groans and honks the horn, swerving through the intersection. He startles.

“Uh- what?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She repeats. “ _Why the hell_ are you drunk by _yourself_ on a Friday night, scaring me half to death by almost dying, and--” She pulls over. “I don’t know your address. What’s your address?”

Connor takes a moment to respond, frown bordering on a pout. “Uh... I was... Chasing a cat--”

“Why are you _drunk_?”

“... I-”  
“Nevermind, I don’t care. What’s your address?”

Connor mumbled something. Alana slapped his arm to get him awake. “What. Is. Your. Address, Connor?”

Connor whimpered. “I... I don’t wanna go home... ”

“Connor, you’re literally bleeding all over my godda- gosh _darn_ car-”

“I can’t go home...”

Alana sighs, exhausted. “Why? Hm? Why?”

“‘Cause my parents will know I’m d-drunk and...” He sniffled, taking a shaky breath. “And... And then I won’t be allowed out and I’ll have to ride with Zoe and...”

“Your parents deserve to know you’re drunk.” She hissed. “You’re not even of age.”

A car passed as silence filled the car. Connor looked down, slumping against the seat. He glanced out the window, matted hair blocking his face like a curtain.

Alana groaned. She didn’t have time for this. She spun him towards her, slapping him lightly on the arm.

“Connor. If you don’t tell me what your address is I’ll call your parents myself.”

He didn’t say anything in response, hands tugging at his jacket, feeling the soft wool on the inside that Alana guessed would no doubt be ruined by the blood. Alana shook him.

“Connor.”

He hiccuped, looking up at her slowly; he was crying. He made no effort to wipe away the tears that were rolling down his splotchy skin, bottom lip tucked in in the effort to not look sad.

Alana let her hands roll off of his sleeves, unbuckling her seatbelt so she could get closer.

“Connor… You’re crying...”

Connor nodded.

“I know… I’m- I’m sorry.” He shook. "I'm such a fucking-- this is so.. embarrassing.... fuck. God-"

Alana could tell he wasn’t trying to cry; Connor looked away from her, brushing some hair out from his ear in an effort to hide his face. But it was too late, he was already on the verge of drunk sobbing. He leaned against the dashboard, hands pressed into his eyes.

Alana watched him, hand poised to comfort, yet hesitating. This was a delicate relationship, something she had already broken before, she had to think before she acted this time.

“...Connor,” She gently coaxed, moving forward. “Can I touch you?”

Connor looked over dejectedly, eyes watching her hand like he did in the parking lot before nodding hesitantly.

She rubbed his back in what she hoped was a comforting way, letting the cars pass them by. He buried his face into his arms, eyes empty.

She bit her lip and took her hand off, tapping his shoulder. He looked over. She had her hand resting on the dashboard, ready to hold his.

He stared at it for a long time, the car rumbling beneath them quietly, before he shook his head.

“Not right now, sorry. I’d get- I’d get blood all over your hand, anyways.”

“I don’t mind.”

She minded. But Connor looked like he really needed something comforting right now, something familiar. She could always wash off the blood anyways.

He shook his head again.

“No.”

Alana sighed, hand wilting. She understood, though. At least, she hoped she did.

She got back on the road, telling Connor that she’d take him back to her place for now. He gave a shaky thumbs up, no longer crying due to his amazing ability to bottle up emotions for later.

\----

They pulled up to her house, Alana having to wake Connor up and almost carry him inside. Fishing her keys out of her pocket, she unlocked the door, gently letting go of Connor so she could shut the door. She turned back around, grabbing Connor and ushering him to the kitchen.

Her dad sits up and turns off the TV, coming over before she can even greet him with a skeptical look on his face.

“Alana. Why is your friend in our kitchen?”

Alana blushed, scrambling to find an acceptable answer.

“He um, he... He couldn’t go home right now.”

“Why not?”

“He was crying too hard to tell me his address.”

Connor groaned from the floor, rolling over onto his back. “Don’t say thattttt...”

Harold gasped. “Holy Jesus, he’s bleeding out! Alana, get some bandages!”

Alana nodded, rushing to the bathroom. Harold knelt down, pressing a hand to Connor’s forehead. Connor whined, swatting at it.

“Duuuuddde…”

“Don’t ‘dude’ me, uh... What’s your name?”

“Connor...”

“Right. You better explain yourself once you’re fixed up, Connor.”

Alana came back, leaning next to Connor and taking off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves. He blushed, pulling them back down. She yanked them back up. He tugged them down. They both grabbed the sleeves, trying to jerk it their own way before Alana sighed.

“Connor, let me see your arm.”

“No... It’s got weird shhhit onn it...”

Oh, god, he sounded drunk. Alana glanced at her dad, who had his eyes narrowed at Connor. _Shoot, he’s suspicious!_ She needed to get him out right now.

“Hey, Dad?” She stood. “Um, I don’t want to be rude or anything, but I think we’re crowding him. I can handle this on my own and it’s...” She looked at the stove clock. “... Midnight. So, why don’t you go to bed and I’ll take care of the rest?”

Harold put his hands on his hips.

“Why do you want me to leave so bad, hm? What are you two gonna do down here?”

Alana’s face went red and Connor laughed.

“I’mmm not gonna fuck your daughter, Mr. Beck… I’m… S-She’s not my tyyyype...”

Alana facepalmed, almost leaving a mark on her crimson face.

“C-Connor. Stop.”

Connor continued. “Like, seriously... Don’t worry about it… I’m pretty sure with… ssstate I’m in?? She could kick my _assss_.”

Harold chuckled.

“That’s true, she could kick your ass.”

“Dad!”

“What? It’s a compliment. But Alana, let me take him home before one, alright? And call his parents.”

“Okay, dad.”

“Alright, I’m going to bed. Oh, and Connor?” He looked over at him. “Don’t drink anymore, son, you’re gonna have a bad hangover in the mornin'.”

He waved and went upstairs. Alana whimpered. Shoot, he had noticed. She shook her head to herself, trying not to crumple into herself at the thought of looking bad to her father. Connor seemed to share the sentiment, making a low screeching noise of embarrassment.

“Connor.” She hissed, leaning down and tugging up his sleeve, despite his protesting. “Behave yourself, okay? Stop making that noise.”

“Nnno.”

“Yes. Behave.” She started to clean him up with a wet towel, running it over his scars. He whimpered, trying to hide them.

“I’ve already seen them, Connor. There’s no use.”

Connor’s face flushes in embarrassment. He looks away, silent, and lets Alana wash his arms. She’s extremely careful when it comes to his wrists, only dabbing around the marks and making sure to keep Connor’s hand level. Alana could tell Connor was impressed with her first aid skills, watching her movements with a curious eye. Every so often he’d flinch or look away in that insecure way he did, and she’d ask him ‘is this okay?’ in her most gentlest voice, adding a sweet lilt for extra measure. He’d always blush slightly and nod eventually, a small smile trying itself on his face before he forced it back down. Alana smiled back, liking that he was finally comfortable- and seemingly happier than before.

She set down the towel and grabbed the gauze and bandages next to her, wrapping the gauze around his self-harm areas with a gentle precision, assuring him that she knew what she was doing and that this would all be over soon.

“Okay, that’s done, then...” She sighed, admiring her work in progress. Connor looked up. He looked ill. Alana frowned and delicately placed her hand on his knee and brushed his hair back, but not before asking.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet.”

She picked up two boxes of Band-Aids, holding them up.

“So! Do you want the _Hello Kitty_ ones or the normal kind?”

Connor giggled, body shaking with the quiet laugh like a folding chair that just couldn't decide what position it was in. He sighed after his small giggle fit and shrugged.

“Both? I like... _Hello Kitty_. But, like, don’t put it anywhere visible...”

Alana smiled endearingly. He liked _Hello Kitty_ ? That was cute. She undid both boxes and started pressing them to all the scrapes and bruises. The _Hello Kitty_ ones went on his shoulders and chest, only one special one being on his hand. The rest went everywhere else.

Alana smoothed out the last bandage on his shoulder and beamed, sitting back and clasping her hands together proudly.

“All done!”

Connor looked at his arms and smiled weakly, sniffling again. Alana moved closer, the fluorescent kitchen lights buzzing overhead.

“Connor, what’s wrong? Does it hurt?”

Connor shook his head, wiping his eyes.

“I’m just... so drunk and fucked up and... I feel weird and emotional and, like, there’s no reason to be?? Uh-”

He looked over at her, scanning her body before facing her.

“You’re really nice.” He blurbed. “And… I wanna tell you something. But if you tell anyone I said this I’ll kill you and pull your guts out, okay?”

Alana paled, nodding quickly. “Um-”

“Like, not literally.” He defended. “I’m just saying... I’ll be mad...”

Alana let out a breath, nodding. “Okay, sure. Yeah, I mean- that doesn’t make any sense and I wish you’d stop threatening me but okay.”

Connor pouted, scrunching up his face in a weird expression. He stayed like that for a while before Alana asked:

“So what is it you were going to tell me?”

Connor un-scrunched his face and looked down at the kitchen tiles, at the scattered Band-Aid wrappers that Alana was dying to clean up and then finally at her. He took a deep breath.

“... I wanted to say... I missed you.”

Alana smiled.

“I missed you, too.”

“No, no,” He says contritely. “You don’t get it-- I _missed_ you.”

“I... missed you, too, Connor--”

“No!! No!! This is like, a big thing!! Like, I... I missed you! And, now i’m telling you and I wanna- I wanna be friends ag... Again?? Sorry, my words are fucked up from-”

“Alcohol, yeah.”

“Yeah. But, you know what I mean, right? I’m sorry I avoided you and shit and I still think deep down you’re a bitch who’s out to get me but I know I’m wrong!! I know I just destroyed-- I just... I probably...” He panted, bracing himself against the tiles. “I fucking... I was scared you’d hurt me so I... I hurt myself and... This is some deep shit and I can’t believe I’m just fuckin’ drunk ranting to you about my feelings but... But I miss you!”

He hiccuped, wiping his tears roughly.

“I’m sorry... Fuck.”

Alana stared at Connor, racking her brain on what to do in this situation. Connor Murphy, the school freak, the crazy, wild eyed, stoner who punched lockers until his fists bled and yelled at his teachers for no reason, had just told her that he missed her, crying on her kitchen floor like the drunken mess he was. She tried to think back to all the Wikihow articles she read; to all the videos she saw in health class about depression and suicide- she came up with nothing. She was just sitting there like an idiot, staring at him and probably giving him the wrong idea about how she felt about this. She was confused, sure, but she was also so _happy_ and she felt so _accomplished:_ she had finally gotten Connor Murphy to open up to her, to confide in her with his emotions.

Connor looked up at her, arms wrapped around himself insecurely. He looked battered.

“...I’m uh- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve--”

“No, no!” Alana says quickly, enthusiastically. “This is great! I- thank you, Connor, for telling me how you feel.”

Connor frowned.

“... Are you- are you doing that thing again? Is it- is it because you saw my… um- my cuts?”

Alana furrowed her brows.

“What thing?”

“The-”

“OH!” She interrupted, remembering. “Right, right, when you yelled at me at lunch.”

She moved closer, resting her hand on his knee with permission.

“Connor, I do see you as more than your problems, okay? I... I do.” She reassured; though something felt off when she said it- she felt like she was lying. But, she was telling the truth, definitely, Connor Murphy was a person, through and through. And she believed that, definitely. It’d be rude not to. It’d ruin everything.

Connor sighed.

“Yeah, I... Yeah. I need to be... Yeah. Yeah. I'm sorry.”

Alana shook her head.

“Connor, there's no reason to be sorry... Don't ever apologize for- for your emotions!”

“Sometimes because of emotions I wanna hurt people.”

“...Well, those you can… is that a joke like last time or?”

“No. I'm gross and weird and… pathetic.”

“No, you're not. And… um- you can keep those hurting people emotions under check, okay? Those you don't… Bring out. Or, if you do you bring them out constructively. Like beating up a pillow or screaming into a pillow or… something.”

Connor smirked.

“Poor pillow.”

Alana chuckled.

“Yeah, poor pillow.”

…

“Connor, can I try something?”

Connor shrugged.

“Sure, I guess. I mean… whatever it is it can't be worse than crying in someone's kitchen at twelve in the morning, so...”

Connor shut his eyes and sighed.

Slowly, two arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a loving, warm, hug. Connor gasped, eyes wide open for the first time that night. A healing warmth worked its way to his weary bones, tired eyes, and broken soul, mending it all in an instant- probably for just an instant, but still, he felt whole for the first time in years.

A knowing smile spread across Alana's face as Connor wrapped his arms around her desperately, exactly how she hoped. She could feel the happiness radiating off of him now. She gave this hug her all, pushing out every soft touch she had, gently running her fingers through his long curls and wrapping her legs around his hips so they could be even closer together. Right now, in this moment, she felt easiness- she felt that weight of progress finally paying off in a form of a hug. A healing hug for Connor, Connor Murphy wrapping his hands around her and burying his face into her shoulder like she meant everything to him.

She stalled.

_Like she meant everything to him._

A strange warmth prickled inside her, something similar to pride but… different. This didn't feel like the warm of accomplishment- or hard work- this felt like...

She didn't know what it felt like.

She gripped onto Connor tighter, putting her head onto his shoulder as well. She didn't know what she was feeling- and it scared her. She felt good, yes, but what type of good? The best way to describe it was a wholesome, pure, good. Like she… was happy? She was happy. She felt happy, but in a way she had never been before, something driven not by material pursuits but something more; something that mended her soul and made her forget about Connor Murphy, the troubled kid she was trying to help and instead see Connor, the boy who was crying in her arms. She didn't know what this feeling was, but she figured it couldn't hurt to live in it a while longer.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Connor's big flannel jacket. It smelt homey and herby- like a thrift shop mixed with the rainforest. She liked that smell.

Connor giggled.

“A-are you sniffing me?”

Alana blushed.

“Uh- No? I was just taking a deep breath and the smell wafted to my nose. Sorry...”

She started to pull away out of embarrassment. Connor held her firmly in place, nails digging into her sweater.

“...”

He pulled her close again. She let out a sigh of relief.

“You smell like vanilla, by the way...” Connor mumbled.

“What?” Alana chuckled, giving him a look that he couldn't see.

“Like… you smell like vanilla. All the time. It's nice.”

“Thank you. You smell like… A rainforest.”

“Whoa… I love rainforests.” He says in awe. She laughs. Connor laughs too.   


After a very long embrace that neither of them wanted to leave, they stood up, Alana still helping Connor stand upright. He smiled at her and gave her a mini hug- it was awkward and his elbow bumped into her rib and he immediately apologized after but Alana loved it. It brought back that feeling she had earlier- the strange happiness.

She thought about that feeling as they went upstairs, trying to find some way to categorize it as something she’s felt before, something that can be explained. She thought about her previous experiences with Connor, what happened just then, even about the four types of happiness according to science- but nothing seemed to fit quite right in the puzzle that was her emotions.

She set him down in her room and tried to get him to call his parents, to no avail. He _really_ didn't want to call his parents, apparently, saying that they'd be annoyed and he'd be in trouble and his car would be taken etc, etc,. Alana had shushed him halfway through the drunken babble, not really listening anyway.

“Y'know what? it's- it's late, Connor. I've got hardly _any_ work done and… Why don't you just stay over?”

Connor sat up. “What?? Whoa, whoa, I… I couldn't do that to you, dude… I… Oh, fuck… that'd — I'm so sorry I-”

“There’s no reason to be sorry, Connor. I'm offering. I just want to go to bed.”

“...But, like… I can't.”

“Why not?”

“...I've- I don't know… nevermind.”

Alana tsked, holding his hand. She didn't ask for permission, but he allowed it so she assumed it was fine.

“Connor, what is it?”

“I don't wanna say...”

“Mm.” She grumbled. “Alright. I'll get it out of you in the morning. I'm gonna go ask my dad if you can sleep over.”

Connor nodded shyly, thanking her before she left.  


“Hey, dad?” She whispered, shaking him in bed. He groaned and glared at her.

“What.”

“Can Connor stay over?”

“No. Have his parents come.”

“He can't call them— he'd get in trouble and-”

“So?”

“Dad, please! He's tired and I'm tired and _you're_ tired and it's super late and past midnight _so_ if he were to go home  _you'd_   have to drive him there and—”

Harold groaned, turning away from her.

“Fine. He can sleep over- just don't do anything stupid… I don’t wanna get up.”

“We won't!” She beamed. “He's a good guy, honest. And, you know, I can kick his butt!”

“...What...?”

“Um, earlier? When he said--”

“Oooooohh...” Harold laughed sleepily, yawning halfway through. “Yeah… kick his butt. Ha. Alright, 'Lana, I'm going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Night!” She leaned down and gave him a peck on the cheek before heading back to Connor.

She found Connor laying down next to her cat on the bed, petting it and cooing.

“Hi!~ Look at you!!” He moved in front of the cat, trying to kiss her nose. “So fuckin’... Cute! Hi, baby! Baaaaby... Babby. Bäby.”

He mumbled different variations of ‘baby’ to it until Alana cleared her throat, startling him into shutting up.

Alana sat down and smiled endearingly at them both, petting the cat.

“Do you like her?” She asked Connor. He nodded, face still red. 

“What's her name?"

“Professor PuddinPop.”

Connor gasped, stars shining in his eyes.

“Professor PuddinPop!??” He squeaked, picking up the cat immediately.

“Ooooh my god… You have… the _best_ name.” He said to the cat, kissing her nose. She wiggled out of his grasp and he aww’d, hands pressed to his heart. Alana giggled, finding the whole scene adorable.

She picked up Professor PuddinPop, cooing to her as well and kissing all over her face, lipstick only slightly staining the orange / white fur. She sent the cat off with a pat on the butt and laid down.

“Wow… long day, huh?” She sighed.

“Mhmm.” Connor said, not laying down next to her. She rolled her eyes and patted the spot, knowing he had to be given permission first. It was sweet, but ruined the flow of interaction a little. He laid down.

They laid there for awhile together, silence filling the room. It wasn’t as awkward as it once was, however, almost bordering on a comfortable silence. They weren’t all the way there, yet, though.

Connor shifted, laying on his side and looking at Alana.

“Hey. Um… can I say something?”

“Yes, go ahead.” She replied.

“...Thank you. For, uh, like… picking me up. You didn’t have to do that.”

“And what? Just leave you there?”

“Yeah? I didn’t expect you to... Actually come for me.” He mumbled. His hand curled slightly, picking at the sheets. Alana frowned and turned on her side as well, facing him. She inched her hand towards Connor’s, pinky resting on his pinky knuckle.

He chuckled and held her hand, a warm smile on his face.

Alana felt herself warm up again like before, a certain fulfillment engulfing her in… whatever this type of happiness was. She liked it, though, she felt special. She felt like this was something special between the two of them- actually special, not just a milestone on a quest to save Connor Murphy. 

Connor felt warm, too, reluctantly so. He slowly guided his thumb across her knuckles, hoping what he was doing was okay. She giggled and moved closer, resisting the urge to hug him close again.

They laid there for a few more minutes. Alana noticed the small, shy, smile on Connor’s face when he tried something affectionate- like giving her a small compliment on her clothes or squeezing her hand back after she squeezed his. Connor noticed how Alana seemed so relaxed, shoulders limp and breathing easy. She wasn’t scrambling for something to say like she did in school- she was just here, calm and happy. He wished he was calm.

But he did feel happy.

Eventually, the light in Alana’s room became too bright for their tired bodies and Connor had to get up and turn it off, yawning.

“So… uh- I’m sleeping over, right?”

“Yep! I have a sleeping bag in the closet by the stairs and you can sleep on the floor right here."

“Oh. Okay.” He nodded, leaving the room and groaning at his growing headache. He was gonna have a horrible hangover in the morning.

Once he was back, he laid the bag out and crawled in, shutting his eyes. Alana wished him goodnight and he smiled shyly, mumbling a goodnight to her as well. She smiled.

Once he was asleep, Alana used his phone to text his parents, telling them that he was okay, he was over at her house, and that he was in too poor of shape to really be driven home. She answered all their questions until they were satistfied, putting the phone back where it was on the nightstand and laid down, grabbing her stuffed animal and holding it close. She fell asleep in under an hour, her thoughts eventually calming into dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey i recently just lost contact with someone who proofread this fic: if anyones interested pls message me on @space-is-the-place2 on tumblr. also pls actually provide good feedback & stuff not just "its bad" or "its good". Im not the best writer so I cant judge what really needs to be in a fic lmao so just message! or if u dont have a tumblr message me on here? ig? or comment idc i need a proofreader tho aa
> 
> as always leave a comment if you enjoy this fic!! dont be afraid to say whats on ur mind dudes!! :p


	11. Disaster at the Murphys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes to shit and Alana is Not Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cant have a deh fic w/o the obligatory dinner @ the murphys! 
> 
> i dont own deh all rights go to pasek and paul

Alana was the first to wake up; bright eyed and bushy tailed at 8:00 AM on the dot, she loved waking up early. She yawned and looked over at Connor on the floor, hugging a pillow to his chest and sleeping softly. She smiled and got up, being careful with her daily activities so as to not wake him until he was ready. 

At 10:00 AM, Connor woke up, groggy and stumbling upwards to stand. Alana got out of bed where she was watching The Office on her phone to help him get himself to the bathroom. They spent a while in there, Alana holding his hair back and looking away as Connor puked into the toilet, spewing apologies about the night before. She shushed him, gently rubbing his back until he was okay enough to go downstairs and get breakfast. 

Alana sat Connor down at the table, grabbing some eggs from the fridge. 

“So- is eggs and bacon okay?”

Connor nodded numbly. 

“I’m sorry...”

Alana frowned, looking over. 

“Why are you sorry?”   


“‘Cause you’re making me breakfast… you don’t have to- I can make it myself--”

“Connor, stop that. Stop apologizing, okay? At least for now. I’m making you breakfast and that’s final. Now, one egg or two?”

Connor slowly held up two fingers and she nodded, cracking two into the pan and beginning to cook. 

After she finished Connor’s plate and set it down for him, giving him a small pat on the head while it was down, Harold came in.

He looked over Connor and sat down, setting down his coffee on the table after taking a sip. Connor slowly looked over, prodding at his eggs with a fork.

“Good morning.” Harold greets.

“...Mornin’.” Connor mumbles back, slowly slumping onto the table, hardly trying to stay awake. Harold raises a brow and looks over at Alana, who has just sat down with her own batch of eggs.

“Hey, where’s my breakfast?” Harold teases. 

Alana scoffs. “Dad! I just made  _ two _ omelettes! I don’t wanna make a third!!”

“Really?” Harold smirked. “I thought you wanted to run  _ everything  _ around here.” 

Alana rolled her eyes and sighed. “I had a rough night last night, okay? Can’t you do it?”

Harold tsked and got up to make himself breakfast. Connor watched the exchange through slitted eyes, staying quiet. Alana cleared her throat and started eating her food as silently as possible. She read online the night before that hangovers make people sensitive to noise and light- so she tried to be respectful. Even though being hungover wasn't a respectable thing, at all. She'd have to talk to him about that later when her dad wasn't around.

Her dad eventually left them to themselves in the kitchen. Alana looked over after he’d gone, tapping Connor on the shoulder. He looks up, exhausted and blinking unevenly. 

“Connor, I want you to tell me why you got drunk last night.” Alana said, just how she practiced this morning. 

He didn’t respond.

Alana smacked his shoulder lightly. 

“Connor! Answer me.”

“Stop yelling...”

“I let you stay here, you need to answer me. And I'm whispering."  


“...‘Cause I wanted to.” He mumbled with his head in his arms, still poking his eggs. 

“Is that it? Is that  _ really  _ the only reason?”

Connor looked up at her, numb. Alana felt a small twinge of guilt inside her, but she pushed it down, down, down, until it was gone. She had no reason to feel guilt, none at all. Connor was in the wrong and she had to be the one to fix it.

“Connor!” She said, getting impatient. Connor winced and covered his ears. 

“Stop it...”

“No! Not until you tell me what is  _ wrong. _ ” She placed her hand on his arm without permission, he slapped it away, rattling the silverware. 

“Leave me alone! I-”   


“Connor. I care about you, so freaking tell me why--”   


“If you  _ really  _ cared, you wouldn’t be asking me after I told you I don’t want to talk about it!”

“You didn’t say that. You said-”

“I di-”

“-That you just drank because you wanted to but I think--”

“You don’t know  _ shit _ !”

“I KNOW MORE THAN _YOU!_ ” She leaned forward. "At least i'm not an _alcoholic_. Now _tell me why you were drunk."_  


  
Connor backed up, hurt registering in his eyes as he covered his ears from what must have been an extremely loud shout for him. Alana stood her ground. 

“Tell me.”

“.. I.. I’m not an alcoholic, asshole.”

“Then why were you drinking?”

Connor and Alana glared at each other for a few seconds, the lights buzzing softly- but all the softness was long gone.

Connor slowly lowered his hands and moved over to Alana. Alana didn’t move back, letting him get in close. Was this a hug? She started to raise her arms just in case.

Connor looked at her and then,

“OW!”

He kicked her in the shin. Hard.

Alana hissed, holding her leg and feeling anger rise in her. She just wanted to HELP him- is that too much to ask for? To help someone? To make their life better because you’re in it? To feel important? To make someone happy? Is that too much??  _ Really??? _

He turned around and then stopped mid-step. Alana smirked internally. He had nowhere to go in the house to get away from her- he didn’t live here and her dad probably wouldn’t drive them home for another half-hour and god _knows_ Alana Beck wouldn’t allow Connor to drive while hungover. He was trapped and now he would  _ have  _ to tell her what was wrong.

He stalled in the doorway while Alana slowly tried to adjust to the pain in her shin before he stumbled off towards the backyard. Alana scowled. Oh, so he was just gonna leave. Okay. Rude. She stood, ignoring the pain and went after him. 

Connor was sprawled out in the slightly overgrown grass of her backyard/food and flower garden, Professor Puddinpop right beside him in the sunshine. Alana tsked and placed her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes and calculating how she would approach this.

Connor looked over.  


“.... Can you, like, fuck off?”

“No, this is my house.”

“I think it’s your backyard, actually.”

She crossed her arms.

Connor chuckled and looked back up at the sky, flipping her off.

“I texted my parents to come get me, by the way.”

Alana cursed internally. Of course, he had parents who would come get him. Darn it, she was so close- 

Well, there was still time.

She made her way over and sat down next to him, ignoring the middle finger he was smushing against her cheek. 

“Connor.”

“I’m not telling you why I was drunk.”

“Connor, c’mon-”

“Shut up.”

“No. Connor I-”   


Connor put his hand over her mouth, silencing and disgusting her. 

“Let me ask a question.” He said, lowering his hand. “Why do you wanna know? And be honest.”

“Because I care about you.”

“No, you don’t. You care about why I did it.”

“That’s the same thing!!”

Connor tilted his head back and groaned loudly, letting it stretch out over thirty seconds before he stopped, ending it on a loud, short, yell. Alana watched, not impressed. Before she could attempt to try and force him to tell her again, his phone rang. He sat up and held it to his ear.

“Yo.” He greeted to the phone. Alana couldn’t hear the other end so she just listened to Connor.

“Out.” He responded to the phone. 

“Yeah. She’s a..” 

He glanced at her. 

“.. Friend.” 

Alana felt some hope, opening her mouth to speak. 

Connor shushed her and covered the receiver. 

“You’re not.”

He turned back to the phone to resume his conversation. Alana scowled, waiting until he was done to speak.

“I thought you said you wanted to be friends.”   


“I didn’t say that.”   


“You did last night.”

Connor paled, full attention on Alana.

".. I did?"

"Mhmm."

“.. What else did I say?”

“You said I was nice, you said you missed me, you said you liked  _ Hello Kitty _ , and you.. Cried a lot.”

Connor gaped, running his hands down his face. 

“I.. I cried??”   


“Yep!” She moved closer, smiling sweetly but mostly deviously - it would be fun to tease him just a bit. “But don’t worry, we hugged it out.”

Connor launched his hands through his hair and whined loudly, face pink. It took him a couple moments to recover, Alana giggling beside him. 

“Okay, Okay.” He stressed. “That was- That was  _ drunk _ me, okay? I’m not like that. I don’t like _ Hello Kitty _ and I- you’re not nice and- uh- fuck crying. Okay??”

“Don’t worry.” She patted him on the back. “I know your true feelings.”

Connor groan-yelled again, flopping down into the dirt. Alana chuckled, laying down next to him. “You okay?”

Connor turned away from her, swatting her away. She leaned over his shoulder.

“You okay?” She asked again. He swatted at her more, completely flushed. “Fuck off!”

Alana sighed and sat up. “Connor, I do actually want to help you-”

“But do you want to be my friend?”

“Because I- What?”

“.. Nothing.”

“.... No, no, you said- I know what you said- um-”

“Then why’d you-”

“I do want to be your friend.”

Connor sat up and turned to face her.

“.. Why? To help me?”

“Mhmm.”

“.. So I’m basically just.. A charity case.”

“No! No! You’re- no. You’re not a charity case. Also I’m not sure you used that right.”

Connor kicked her limply. She pushed his foot away, irritated. Connor glowered at her.  


"Connor-"

"Please," He begged. "Just- Shut up."

"...." Alana took a deep breath and sighed. 

".. Fine. But this isn't- this isn't over."

Connor didn't respond, turning his attention to petting Alana's cat and ignoring Alana.

 

\----

 

Larry and Cynthia arrived at the Beck household a half-hour later. Harold greeted them and called into the backyard where Alana and Connor were chatting, switching between being friendly and being bitter. Connor perked up when Harold said his parents were here, quickly getting away from Alana and how.. Weird she was. Weird? Was that the word? Eh, who cares. Connor Murphy didn’t really analyze his emotions.

He went to the front door, but Alana beat him to it. She started sweet-talking his parents, putting on her ‘i'm perfect’ fa ç ade. Connor hated that; why did she have to be so.. Annoyingly good at everything?  

His parents seemed to fall in love with her quickly, his mother and father glad he had a friend who seemed to be a good influence. 

“Say, Alana, would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” His mother proposed. “We’d really like to get to know Connor’s new friend a little!”

Connor cringed. Alana smiled and nodded, unaware of the horror that was the Murphy Family. His parents took him to their car, saying goodbye to the Becks and driving off. Connor kept silent during their interrogation of where he was last night and stormed to his room as soon as possible, feeling like utter shit.  


 

\----

 

Alana arrived at promptly 7:30 PM for the Murphy family dinner. She was excited to meet Connor’s family, hoping to get to know a little more about him and also be able to see her best friend Zoe.  


She steadied herself, straightened her back, and knocked with her index and middle knuckles twice. The door wasn’t answered immediately, so she looked around at the large house. It was two stories with a garage and two cars- pretty sweet. It was painted a nice light beige with brown accents, a couple bushes along the walkway with small lizards and ladybugs crawling around in them. Alana smiled as she saw a lizard skitter across the driveway, thinking for a moment about chasing it childishly before the door opened. She turned and grinned at Cynthia, shaking hands and coming inside. She took off her shoes, setting them next to Connor’s muddy and torn combat boots and Zoe’s converse, sparkling with star stickers on the rubber. She smiled slightly at the contrast and stood.

The house from the inside looked impressive, like those houses you'd see in magazines, perfectly decorated with a big TV and an entire dining table. The house seemed off-putting almost, but Alana shook off that weird feeling. Maybe it was just the family portraits and relics in it around the windows: a father, kids, and a mother..

She was brought out of her trance by a chair screeching against the floor and the thud of Connor Murphy sitting down at the table and putting his head down like in school. His mother tapped him and scolded him lightly before ushering Alana over to the table and passing around some Chicken Alfredo and salad for everyone. Connor poked at his, eyes red like he had been crying earlier. Alana worried for him as she ate, deciding to bring it up later. 

The dinner went smoothly until Larry spoke.

“So.. how’d you and Connor meet?”

Connor glared at his dad. Alana wasn’t sure why. She thought back to when they first met- out back of the school where Connor was smoking. That probably wasn’t the thing she should tell them but..

“Connor got angry in class and left so I went after him and we talked on the steps of the school. Then he texted me later that night and now we’re..” She hesitated. Were they friends anymore..? “.... Friends. I th- Um. Were friends.”

Connor kicked her under the table, Alana grunted under her breath and shot him a look. He kicked her again. She kicked back.

“Can you two stop playing footsies under the fucking table.” Zoe suddenly spoke. Alana crossed her ankles immediately and looked over, seeing Zoe jolt. Connor had probably kicked her too.

“Language, Zoe. We have a guest over.” Her mother corrected. 

Alana looked over at Larry, who seemed smug in some weird way she didn’t understand. Connor seemed to understand, though, angry about it. The tension between the family fogged up the room and started to choke her, the absolute silence only making it thicker.

His mom tried to ease the tension by clearing her throat.

“So! Alana, I talked to your dad earlier.. He seems really nice! You think he and your mom would like my- um- salad?” She floundered for something to say. Alana frowned.

“I don’t have a mom.”

Zoe choked on her water and Connor stiffened, cringing  _ hard _ . The room went silent again. Alana wondered if that was rude to say.

“.... Oh, well, I’m sorry, honey.. Uhm..” Cynthia smiled tightly. “I’ll just ask your dad about.. Things then.”

“Yeah..” Alana bit her lip. “Sorry, I shouldn’t of said that- she’s probably- she’s still alive! Just left.. Early on. Y’know?”

The parents nodded. The siblings didn’t say a word.

Alana sighed.

The dinner continued with sparse, awkward, conversations, Zoe occasionally making snide comments and Connor making faces. Eventually, Connor finished eating and stood up. His mother scowled. 

“Connor, you have to stay until--”

He was already gone.

Cynthia sighed, putting her head in her hand. “.... I’m sorry, Alana. He’s..”

“I know.” She responded without second thought, getting up and pushing in her and Connor’s seats. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Cynthia shook her head. “Alana, sweetie, you really don’t have to-”

“I want to. Thank you, though, Mrs. Murphy.” She smiled politely before following Connor up to what she assumed to be his room. She stepped around the piles of clothing and trash that littered the carpet and came up to him. He shoved her away before she could speak to him- she groaned. This again. She was sick of this little cat and mouse game; she needed a way to actually get to him. 

“Connor, may I sit on the bed?”   


“No. Don’t make me go back downstairs. Go home.”

Alana frowned.

“.... If I sit on the bed, I’ll hold your hand and give you a hug..?”

Connor stared at her, flushing. He cleared his throat and shook his head quickly. 

“Fucking- no. That’s gross.”

“Connor, you love hand ho-”   


“ _ SHUT _ .”   
  
Alana blinked.

“.... Okay, I guess. I just.. Wanna help you. C’mon.”

“Don- fuck you.”

“Why??”

“Because I’m not just a fucking charity case, Alana. We’ve been over this. Now go home.”

“No! I was invited here.”

“Not by me.”

Alana sighed, sitting down on a clean patch and glancing around at the room. There were gray walls with a dark ceiling, sparse glow-in-the-dark stars glued to it. He had a small beanbag chair in a corner and what seemed like a pillow pile around it. His bed looked soft; a black shelving unit behind it with various comics and other random items along with a bong. She grimaced. 

“Well?” He prodded her with his foot. “Fuck off.”

“Don’t you want to be friends?” She stated abruptly.

“.... No.” He huffed, face rosy again. Alana’s attention drew to his eyes again.

“Your eyes are red.. Were you crying earlier?”

Connor threw a sock at her. She threw it back, almost reaching her limit. He threw it back and it hit her in the face. She groaned and put it down, looking back up and getting smacked with a pair of boxers. She screamed and shook it off, leaving immediately. She could hear some small chuckles coming from Connor’s room. She slammed his door for him and went downstairs, rubbing her face. Only Zoe was there now, on her phone. 

Alana came up and sat next to her.

“Hey, Zoe?”

Zoe looked up and smiled.

“Hey!”

“So-”

“Hey, uh, Alana?”

Alana tilted her head. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry about.. All of this. My family's a disaster.” Zoe sighed, putting down her phone. Alana furrowed her brows.

“They’re.. Really not. They’re fine-”

“No, they’re not..”

“....” 

Zoe looked up at Alana. Alana didn’t know how to respond to that.

“.. So, anyways,” Alana starts, cleared her throat. “I was just talking to Connor and.. He’s really confusing. Um.. I mean, I already knew that but he’s, like,  _ really  _ all over the place and- and- I just don’t know what to do! I’ve tried everything, I swear. I’ve tried affection, I’ve tried.. Yelling, I’ve tried.. Other things. Uh- I’ve tried a lot.” She took a deep breath. “Any advice?”

Zoe clicked her tongue. She took a sip of her water.

“Alana, you can’t just.. figure him out. He’s  _ impossible _ .” Zoe said, tapping her nails on the table and setting down her glass. “I mean.. I’d just.. Rather not talk about him, y’know? He’s.. you can’t be his friend. Like, literally, he’s an asshole.”

Alana groaned. 

“I was only trying to help him!!” 

Zoe sighed, pinching her brows together. 

“Alana, I don’t wanna talk about him.”

“I do!"

Zoe groans loudly and stands up, making her chair screech against the floor.

“Did you just come here to see him? Is that it? Can't- Can’t you just- leave him alone? He’s a horrible, selfish, asshole, and I _DON'T_ want to **_think_** _about him!”_

Zoe stood there for a few moments, chest rising and falling and fists curled around her phone. Alana isn’t sure what to say but Zoe’s gone before she can say it. Alana wonders if running away from conversations was a Murphy family constant or if she was just being rude all the time. She hoped it was the first one, feeling her chest clench and knuckles turn icy. She didn’t like the tension in this house, and the night humidity wasn’t helping. 

She heard footsteps and a door shut and got an idea to maybe go outside: away from the poisonous air of the family home. 

When she got out to the back porch, she saw Connor sitting in a small nook beside the house, the orange fire on the end of his cig giving him away. Alana took a deep breath, collected her previously jumbled thoughts, went over what she would say, and finally sat down next to him. He didn’t move, at all- not even turning to _look_ at Alana. 

Alana watched him for a bit, trying in vain to gauge his aura. He had his forehead resting on his knees, smoke wafting from his torn-up lips. His eyes weren’t as red now and Alana started on her memorized speech, thinking that now might be an..  _ okay  _ time.

“Connor, I want to talk about what happened last night and what happened tonight- I know we’re not on the best terms for whatever reason, but, I still feel like we can make this friendship work if you pitched in a little sometimes. Like, I’m not going to chase after you every time you run away, okay? You understand that, right?”

Alana paused briefly, inadvertently giving Connor the time to mumble something. Alana hums curiously, leaning forward.

“What was that?”

“I said: I think you’re not gonna keep that promise.”

“What promise? I never--”

“The promise about not following me when I ‘leave’. You’re fucking obsessed with me.”

“What?” Alana rasps. This isn’t how this was supposed to go. What did that even mean?  _ Obsessed- she wasn’t-- _

“You follow me everywhere, you always wanna talk about feelings and shit, you text me all the time, you fucking- you’re fucking stalking me, Alana. I hate it. I hate  _ you _ . You’re weird and I don’t wanna be friends anymore.”

Alana opened her mouth to say something, but only a small, pathetic, whimper, came out. She shut her mouth, believing herself to be angry but hurt welled in her heart.

“Why do- What does helping me even mean to you?” Connor continues. “Explain it to me, just, like, genuinely. Don’t sugarcoat anything. If i’m a sad charity case to you, then just  _ say  _ it.”

Alana found herself unable to respond again for quite some time. Her speech had gone, and her throat was filled with rocks. She couldn’t process anything, dissociating from her body. She had never.. Felt this kind of hurt before: nobody has ever said they didn’t want to be friends with her before, nobody had ever called her weird in such a personal way; but that was probably just because Alana Beck had never  _ allowed  _ someone close to her like she did with Connor- nobody said no to being friends because nobody  _ was  _ her friend. 

She finally found her voice in the wet grass, tears burning the backs of her eyes.

“I um-” She croaked. “I just wanted to.. Make things better for you.”

Connor didn’t respond. He was allowing her to continue. Alana continued.

“I just- you’re always so sad to me, you’re always.. Talked about in such a bad way and I thought that maybe if I could- if I could give you a friend I could.. I could fix that.”

“And what would that do for you?” Connor mumbled, putting out the cigarette on his arm, right next to a familiar _ Hello Kitty _ worn band-aid.

“It would- what do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean? Answer it like that.”

“.... I-” Alana sniffed, wiping her eyes delicately so she wouldn’t ruin her mascara. “It would make me feel nice. I would feel happy. For you, I mean. I’d feel happy for  _ you _ . And I’d be.. I would have helped you and helped you overcome this thing and that would make me so.. Happy.”

“.... What if I did suddenly become ‘happy’ tomorrow?” Connor asked, looking at the sky. “What would you do?”

“I’d be happy for you.”

Silence.

Alana sighed. “You want me to- to keep talking, don’t you?”

Connor nodded.

“.... Okay, fine. I um- I would be happy for you and we could hang out more and I’d- I’d..”

Silence again. Alana sighed, resting her head against the white wood, a dull thunk. 

“.... I don’t know what we’d do. Be friends? I guess? I can’t imagine you happy.”

“ _ I just want to be happ--” _

She inhaled deeply.

“I just want..  _ you  _ to be.. happy. Of course. This isn’t- This isn’t.. About me.”

Connor looked over at her. She couldn’t look back. He got up.

“Aight. Well.” He clicked his tongue. “Figure that out and- I dunno. Just figure it out. I don’t like what’s.. Going on here with you. I don’t like..”

“Me?”

“What you’re aiming for.” He looked down at her. “I think this  _ is  _ about you.”

Red eyes with smudged mascara met tired, pensive, ones before Connor went back inside.

Alana watched as the screen door creaked shut, turning her attention to the half moon in the sky. She sniffled, letting the tears overflow her eyes and holding back her pained noises. She had never experienced something like this - it was like that familiar loneliness, amplified by an aching, full, heart, and watery eyes.

Heartbreak.

Was that it?

She cried for a few minutes, constantly berating herself for being such a mess: crying in her now ex-best friend’s backyard in the middle of the night, alone. Anyone could walk out and see how immensely pathetic she was. Her façade was ruined. She was ruined.

 

\----

 

Walking back inside was torture as she tried to keep on a happy face and hide her weary eyes. She said her goodbyes to Larry and Cynthia, thanking them for letting her come over. Cynthia gave her a sympathetic smile as she talked to her. Alana hated it.

Zoe came up when Alana was pulling on her shoes, leaning down next to her and whispering.

“Hey, I saw you- um- crying. Was that my fault?”

Alana whimpered and shook her head. Zoe sat down and made sure they were alone before hugging Alana close.

“.. If you need to talk to me, text me. I’ll be here for you.”

Alana hugged back, struggling not to cry onto Zoe’s nice denim jacket as she whispered a brittled ‘ _ thank you _ ’.

"It's just.. Connor--"

Zoe cut her off.

"Alana." She put her hands on her shoulders, forcing Alana to focus on her. "Listen to me; whatever he said about you, it's not true. Whatever he did, it's not your fault. He is.. an absolute _monster_ and.. and you're not.. responsible for him, okay? You're a good person, he's just.. bad. He--" She struggled to find the words, the fire in her eyes dimming. ".... It's not your fault."

Alana nodded half-heartedly and wiped her eyes. She didn't quite know if that was true, but felt comfort at Zoe's words.

Zoe patted her on the back as she went, attempting to soothe her and give her reassurance until Alana was in her dad’s car. 

Once home, she went upstairs and cried some more, holding her favourite plushie of Stitch from _Lilo and Stitch_ close her chest and watching clean Vine compilations until she was calm enough to fall into sleep.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment if you enjoyed! Comments are what make me write more :)


	12. Unease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connors a dumbass and Zoe wants to calm down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// drugs, stabbing ment, allusions to abuse, cutting ment,
> 
> i dont have much to say for this chapter other than yay! Zoe! i love zoe :) she'll be appearing some more
> 
> i dont own deh all rights go to pasek and paul

On Monday, Connor arrived to school, tapping his finger on his jeans to the tune of  _ ‘Walking on Sunshine’;  _ he wasn’t actually walking on sunshine, he felt depressed, as usual, but it was nice to listen to something not melancholy for once- melancholy music only made him more miserable. Plus, hey, it was a good song.

Opening up his locker he ignored Jared Klienman’s attempt at bullying him and got his stuff, walking away from that goblin-looking asswipe and his weird blonde friend.

The first two periods of the day went fine; he saw someone vape in the middle of class while the teacher wasn’t looking and one of the videos they watched said ‘fuck’, which was good. He entered his third period, English, set down his bag and laid down his head, daydreaming along to  _ ‘September’. _

As class droned on, he noticed something weird. Alana wasn’t in her seat- she hadn’t even left her bag here or- wait, did he see her at all today? Maybe he just wasn’t paying attention and Alana left early or.. Something. Maybe she changed classes just to get away from him. Heh. That’d- that was likely. He was horrible. Oh, now he made himself sad. Fuck. Still, it was weird for her not to show up like this. Wait. Oh, there she was. On the other side of class.. Oh.  Connor frowned, Alana really did move away from him.

At the end of class, he approached her, tapping her on the shoulder. She startled and stared at him as he spoke.

“Hey,” he started. “So.. Um- why weren't you.. In your seat..?”

“.... Why are you talking to me?”

Connor felt his stomach drop. What?

“What?” He repeated from his mind. “I— what do you mean?”

“I thought.. You hated me?”

Connor flushed, picking at his bag.

“I.. Uh- I lied. I guess. Um—”

“Connor. That's.. really screwed up. I was really hurt.”

“.... I know. Sometimes, I just-”

“I have to go to lunch. Bye.” Alana cut him off, leaving. Connor gulped, freezing over. Shit, he fucked up. Well, he did hate her.. Except, he didn't. Hate was a strong word..

He laid down on the park bench he usually sits at for lunch. Alana wasn't there. Pausing ‘September’, he thought of what he did last night and how he felt: which was weird to think about. He hardly ever thought about his emotions and if he did they were simple like: ‘Argh, I'm mad! Time to punch something!’ Or ‘I'm sad and pathetic and wanna kill myself!!’ Or the occasional ‘Wow, I'm happy for once. This feels weird. Oh, now I'm sad again. Fuck.’

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and picked it up, hopeful for a text from Alana.

[Bitch]: _ ‘hey what the fuck’ _

Oh. Zoe. Yikes. Didn’t want to talk to her right now. He pressed ‘Mute Notifications’ on the top right corner.

[Bitch]: ‘ _ what’d you do to alana you asshole’ _

Connor raised a brow, intrigued now. He resumed his music and typed.

[Asshole]:  _ ‘wym. I didn't do anything to her’  _ He lied. He did something, just was unsure  _ what. _

_ ‘Yes you did she was crying last night because of you’ _

_ ‘I know’ _

_ ‘Youre an asshole’ _

_ ‘thanks’ _

_ ‘Serious;y whatd you tell her’ _

_ ‘i told her i didn't wanna be friends and said some other shit I didn't mean and now she's avoiding me :/’ _

_ ‘God, you’re such an asshole!’ _

Connor closed the chat window and clicked his tongue, unbothered. Alana was probably.. Fine. She always came back around, right? He'd leave and she'd come after him in the parking lot or outside the arcade; she'd come around.. There was nothing to worry about! He ignored the 10 other texts he got from Zoe.    
  


\----

 

Connor walked out of class, ignoring the teacher’s protests, letting his thoughts drown him, making him float in paranoia towards the back door.

_ You fucked up, you fucked up, you fucked UP. She's avoiding you-  you fucked up. You hurt her, you monster. Even though she was creepy, somewhat, you ruined everything.  _

He practically inhaled his blunt, rocking on the cold steps, chilled with fall weather. 

_ Why do you have to be so melodramatic all the time? Why can’t you just be reasonable and a good person and not make your only fr- your once friend cry? You fucked up. _

_ You shouldn’t feel bad. She was bad. She was trying to-- she was trying to get to you and ruin you. All you were to her was a charity case for her to take pity on. That’s all you were. That’s all you are. You’re a sad, depressed, asshole, who can’t even FUCKING-- _

Connor’s thoughts became unintelligible - the closest thing to compare them to being nails on a chalkboard, loud yelling from another room, machinery burning, and a loud screeching all mixed together like different equally horrible paints, forming an ugly black void of anxiety and depression when done. 

He smoked until he realized that it wasn’t going to help and jammed his blunt back into his tin, stomping on the steps to release tension.

Alana hadn’t spoken to him in a week-- a whole FUCKING  _ WEEK. _ He wouldn't be bothered as long as she looked happy, at least, but she looked absolutely  _ crushed _ after Connor told her she was weird and that he hated her-- he didn’t hate her, What the fuck!

She was a bit unnerving, yeah, and honestly Connor’s paranoia amplified that into stalker but he didn’t fucking hate her! He missed her! He fucking missed her! His dumbass  flip-flop brain was doing 180 turns in opinion every single second and Connor was just begging for it to stop, for just a moment. For just a fucking day so he could sort this shit out and not go on some edgy loner monologue about how he hated the one person who was friends with him just for the Drama of it all. Fuck drama! Fuck this! Fuck life!

Connor screamed, pounding his fist against the brick wall of the school. 

_ Even now, he was being over-dramatic!  _

He kicked the wall.

_ Stop! _

He punched it.

_ Being! _

He growled loudly to nothing, punching the wall twice.

_ Overdramatic _ !!

This battle of mind and body continued for a few more minutes until Connor laid down and let out one last shriek, anger gone and possibly meltdown over. 

_ He didn’t even care about her that much to do that- so why-- _

_ No, no, we aren’t thinking about that shit again. No. _

_ SO  _ **_WHY--_ **

Connor smashed his earbuds in.

_ ♪ ‘ _ _ I can't believe I forgot your name; Oh baby won't you come again?’ ♪ _

Ah, the soothing  _ the 1975. _ Finally, fucking finally.

He needed to get to his car.

Connor spent the rest of school in his car, windows open so he didn’t have to waste gas on A/C. Even though it was humid as fuck. Inside, he was looking back at his and Alana’s old texts, thinking hard about things. God, he wanted to just kill himself and not deal with this shit anymore-- he did have a knife in his backpack he could use to  cut..  That might help a bit. Well, not help, but distract at least. He reached for the knife but hesitated at the sound of his phone buzzing. He looked at it and gasped.

[New Messages from febreeze (Alana)]

_ ‘Hey. I’m sorry I haven’t been talking to you recently but I decided to take your advice and ‘figure it out’. I haven't found anything yet but I need some help: why'd you say you hated me? What'd you mean by ‘this is about you’? You referring to me.’ _

[Connor]:  _ ‘are you okay?’ _

[febreeze (Alana)]:  _ ‘Yes.’ _

_ ‘oaky.’ _

_ ‘Oaky?’ _

_ ‘okay*. It was a typo.’ _

_ ‘Okay. Do you still want to text? We don't have to talk or anything.’ _

_ ‘Yes, texting is good.’ _

_ ‘So, my questions. Are you going to answer them?’ _

_ ‘Yeah. I don’t know why I said that- I don’t hate you. And I think.. Maybe uhhhhhhhhh i don't know. I say things sometimes and don't know why I say them or don’t mean them. Closest guess I have is I was being a dramatic dumbass.’ _

_ ‘... You should mean things when you say them, Connor.’ _

_ ‘I know!! My brain is bad’ _

_ ‘.. Alright, then. I forgive you. For now. Everything's okay.’ _

_ ‘No, it isnt! I’m a fucking wreck i'm sorry’ _

_ ‘wait no uh i'm just sorry in general i'm fine’ _

_ ‘damnit’ _

_ ‘Are you done?’  _ Alana sent.

_ ‘yes.’ _

_ ‘Okay. Just don’t worry about it, okay? Also in the future: can you please correct me when I start being creepy? Or insensitive? I really want to be friends with you, for real. I feel that maybe under your sadness you’re a nice guy. I would hope so, at lest.’ _

_ ‘lesat*’ _

_ ‘least* I'm sorry i'm shaking slightly.’ _

_ ‘I’ll remind you, i guess. ubt don't take what i said too seriously. Correct seems weird. like the word. also why are you shaking’ _

_ ‘Cold’ _

_ ‘got it.’ _

_ ‘Okay, thank you for being so patient with me. I’m going back to class. Goodbye.’ _

_ ‘okay. And no problem?’ _

It took Connor a few minutes to write that last text, brain starting to make the chalkboard/yelling/mechanical/screeching noise again. 

_ You’re giving in too easily. She wronged you, hold that grudge.  _ He thought, tossing around on the car floor, already restless. 

_ I don’t feel like I should, though! Yeah, well, she’ll just be weird again. She isn’t weird. Yeah, I guess. But what other choice do you- we- I have?  Don’t give up! Make her pay! She just cried and probably hates you! Too little! Kill her! No, What the fuck. What the actual fuck? Don’t kill people- What the fuck, brain? What the fuck? _

Connor punched his car door, panting. Damn intrusive thoughts \- If anything,  _ she  _ was the one who gave in too easily. He would never want to hurt Alana; all he wanted was a friend, someone there to comfort him. Someone.. Just. to be there. 

 

\----

 

[ New Messages from: Connor ]

[2:34 PM]

_ ‘Also hey none of this is your fault. At all. You're probably not creepy or a stalker or weird or obsessed with me i'm jsut such amess and my paranoia stuff really doesnt help everything like i get so paranoid about every little thing that i carry a knife with me everywhere, just in case. Why not pepperspray? Who fucking kows. Anyways i'm sorry and this is none of your fault. Youre not selfish youre just trying to do a good thing for me and i didn't realize it and i'm sorry and if you screenshot this i will stab you. But not really. Well, maybe. I might maybe just stab a little bit in hte shoulder. Those aren't lethal. But don't take that as a serious threat bc u can screenshot this and i'll look bad. Even though i don't have any sort of reputation to hold up just don't screenshot this.’ _

[2:40 PM]

_ ‘Jesus christ sorry that was a LOT of words with a lot of typos. Sorry just forget i said any of that please.’ _

[3:20 PM]

_ ‘Also sorry again for saying i hate you. Youre a good person i think I just feel like you should know that.’ _

_ ‘I only say i think because i don't know you that well’ _

[4:00 PM]

_ ‘But I kind of do. Sorry. I'm really high and stuff and also theres no ac in my car’ _

_ ‘Also don't screenshot the high thing. I know how much of a fucking bootlicker u are.’ _

[4:05 PM]

_ ‘Sorry’ _

[4:10 PM]

_ ‘Okyay i'm gonna stop texting. Bye.’ _

 

\----

 

Connor turned off his radio and got out of his car, sighing heavily before heading inside the house. It was strangely quiet; maybe Connor finally had the house to himself--

“Hey, asshole. Did you get my texts?”

“No, Zoe..” Connor groaned, setting down his bag. Zoe rolled her eyes.

“Well, basically-”

“I don’t care.”

“ _ Basically..  _ I found your  drug  stash.”

“.. Like the one in my room or-”

“The one in the shed. The one in the crate under the paint with all the vodka and pills?”

“.... Okay.. And?”

“I wanna know..” Zoe teetered on the kitchen island. “If I could have some.”

Connor scoffed. “Uh, fuck no. I paid for- well, I paid for those pills with my own money.”

Zoe raised a brow.

“You did, did you?”

“Yeah, asshole. You can’t just steal those things like you can vodka.”

“You stole the vodka?”

“Yeah. 7/11 doesn’t care.”

Zoe sighs, putting her hand to her face. “Listen.. You didn’t pay for those with your own money- you stole my shit and sold it to buy the pills, so I feel I should have some.”

“If you want some, then fucking buy some.”

“I did! You sold my-”

“You can’t have my pills. They’re expensive.”   


“As expensive as my goddamn necklace, assho-”

“Can we SHUT. UP.” He slammed his hands on the table. “About the pills?!”

Zoe  flinched , going quiet. Connor snoofed, leaning forward.

“What do you even need them for?”

“.. I’m.. Not doing so good so-”

“Drugs aren’t gonna fix that.”

“Oh, so you-you’re the fucking--  _ D.A.R.E _ guy now. You’re- uh-”

“Stop stuttering. What, scared because I slammed my hands on the table?” He pounded it again. Zoe whined. Connor laughed cruelly. “You’re really easy to scare.”

Zoe didn’t respond this time, just heading out to the backyard. Connor sighed and went to the door.

“DON’T STEAL MY DRUGS, ASSHOLE, OR I’LL TELL MOM AND DAD THEY’RE YOURS!”

He watched her go, rolling his eyes before heading back inside. She knew better than to take his shit.

 

Zoe flinched at the yell from Connor, glancing back to see him going inside.  _ Jesus fucking Christ _ he was scary when he yelled. She went into the shed and shut the door, sliding down in the darkness and feeling around for the crate. She took a bottle of vodka from it, hands shaking as she gulped down a few burning shots- coughing most of it up. God, she was  _ still  _ shaking- Connor was gone and she had her pepper spray, he was gone and she was protected. He couldn’t do anything or slam anything or scare her or.. 

She couldn’t get him off of her mind as she picked up the small baggie of pills, Connor’s bloodshot eyes darting around the shed walls, scratched with those cuts he got from his latest midnight stroll; barely covered with band-aids, his vomit covered sweaters and-

She set down the pills and put back the vodka, standing up and feeling sick at the usually nice, warm, feeling of being drunk. She didn’t want to end up like that- she needed to forget about her stupid brother for a while, she needed to stop shaking.

She picked up her phone and texted Alana, her friend. Her good friend. Not best friend- but really,  _ really, _ close.

[Zoe B)]: ‘ _ Heyy, what’s up? Just checking up on you’ _

[Alana <3]: ‘ _ I’m fine, thank you. How are you?’ _

_ ‘Not the best. But i'll be okay’ _

_ ‘What happened?’ _

_ ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ _

_ ‘Okay. Well then can I ask you something about Connor?’ _

Zoe cringed, reaching for the vodka again despite the images of Connor’s cuts in her similarly scarred thighs. 

_ ‘No.’ _

_ ‘Why?' _

_ ‘He’s why i’m ‘not the best’’ _

_ ‘Oh. I’m sorry, what’d he do?’ _

_ ‘I said I don’t want to talk about it’ _

_ ‘Oh, right, sorry.’ _

Zoe sent a photo of a small kitten in a flower field, struggling to keep the alcohol down her throat. She shouldn’t be drinking like this.

_ ‘Topic change: do u love her’ _

_ ‘Yes!!!! I always love her!!’ _

_ ‘Me too! I want to have a cat someday.’ _

_ ‘I already do :-)’ _

_ ‘>:(‘ _

_ ‘;-)’ _

_ ‘I love u’ _

_ ‘What?’ _

_ ‘Like. In a friend way!’ _

_ ‘Oooh. then, I love you too, Zoe :-)’ _

Zoe smiled at the screen, continuing to text Alana as she snuck into the house to avoid her brother. His room smelled like intoxicants already.

She was reminded of her own stash by the smell and shut the door quietly, fishing her blunt out from its hiding place and starting to smoke. Getting high made her extremely hungry and chilly, but her nerves calmed. 

Finally, she wasn’t shaking anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! Those are what keep me motivated to keep writing! :D


	13. Frogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Alana are huge nerds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, a (mostly) fluffy chapter! :D
> 
> tw: abuse, stabbing mention, slight allusions to trauma, knives, blood, puking, drugs, alcohol,
> 
> By the way, I am pro Zoe Murphy and this chap is not meant to portray her in a negative light

[Connor]: ‘ _ hey so I know things are still a bit weird but it's been a couple weeks and I was wondering if we could hang out again? I don’t know where but’ _

[Febreeze (Alana)]: ‘ _ Things aren’t weird anymore, Connor, we already talked about this. But, hanging out sounds fun! Wanna go to the arcade again?’ _

_ ‘No, not really. I’m not in the mood for spending money. Any other ideas?’ _

_ ‘I don’t know?’ _

_ ‘.. My cars pretty cool, do you wanna just.. Drive around and see what we can find?’ _

_ ‘Ugh sorry that sounded braggy. My cars not that cool’ _

_ ‘I’m sure it looks amazing, Connor. :-p That sounds fun! When?’ _

_ ‘Right now?’ _

_ ‘Oh. I’m working on some APUSH homework right now..’ _

_ ‘oh. sorry.’ _

_ ‘I’ll be done in an hour, though. Then you can come pick me up :-)’ _

_ ‘K. i'll be over there in an hour. Finish ur hw’ _

_ ‘Got it! :-p’ _

_ ‘:)’ _

As promised, an hour later, Connor came to pick up Alana. She stepped into his car, looking around the back in slight awe and bemusement. Connor flushed, backing out of the driveway.

“I know it’s uh-.. Unconventional. But-”

“I love it.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “You do? It’s.. um- thanks.”

“Like, the um-” Alana gestured vaguely towards the entire back- some new stickers added. “It looks cozy. I’ve never seen anyone have blankets in the back of their car. Or pillows.”

“.. Yeah. It’s like.. A room away from my room, y’know?”

“That sounds cool.” She smiled at him. He smiled back, shifting proudly in his seat.

“Thanks.”

He started driving in a random direction, as agreed upon. 

“Where’d you get the idea?”

“Um.. Pinterest?” Connor bit his lip. Alana chuckled. “That’s.. Surprising. That you have a Pinterest, that is.”   


“Well, I mean, I only use it for aesthetic purposes- I don’t know why it would be.. Fucking  _ weird  _ or anything. I’m an artistic person.”

Alana furrowed her brows, leaning back in her seat. 

“I never.. Said it was weird?” Alana tilted her head.

“.... Oh.”

“Sorry-” 

“No, It’s- I dunno. I don't- sorry. I got defensive over fucking  _ Pinterest _ .” He laughed wryly. “I’m so stupid.”

“.. It’s okay. I understand. I think you- um- well, when you say artistic, what do you mean?”

“.. I draw and I like.. Interior design. And also.. Fashion.”

“You’re into fashion?”

“.. Yeah. I know, it’s-” He laughed again, looking down at himself. “I don’t exactly look the best. I look like a dumpster turned into a person.”

“I like it.”

“You-  _ what?” _

“I do!” Alana leaned forward, examining his outfit. It was a black t-shirt with a faded golden sun on the front, a brown denim torn jacket, black ripped jeans, and black converse. He had on a couple bracelets and rings too, black nail polish chipping and- wait-

“Is there glitter in your nail polish?”

Connor blushed.

“.... Yeah."

Alana smiled. “That’s nice. I never noticed that.”

“.... Do you.. Like it?”

“Yeah! I like it! I like your whole.. Grunge-y look you’ve got going on. I really do.”

“.... I literally dug this jacket out of a dumpster.”

Alana laughed.

“I’m not joking.”

“Oh.”

“....”

“Well-” She cleared her throat. “I still think it looks nice.”

“.... Thanks. You too. You look-” He glanced over a couple times. “..  _ Really _ nice. I wish I could dress like that.”

Alana looked down at herself, a yellow tank top and plaid skirt with pockets, white knee high socks with yellow stripes on them and black converse. She had on bright blue nail polish and pink lipgloss, hair in braids and brushed to the side.

“.. Like this?”

“.... Like, well, no. But- fuck, I dunno why I said that. I mean.. Like, better? I'm tired of looking fuckin’.. Emo. I hate it. I mean, I love it too but, I wanna..” He took a breath, turning left. “I wanna.. Wear bright colours and stand out and.. Look good.”

“.. You- you can do that.”

“Yeah, I  _ could.  _ But I hate being stared at. No fucking way could I just.. And I have to have a jacket on, too, all the time.”

“It's summer. You don't-”

“My scars.”

“.... So?”

Connor gripped the wheel harshly, jaw clenching.

“So? The fuck do you mean ‘so’?”

Alana rolled her eyes.

“Pull over.”

“Why? No. I'm not- nothings _wrong_.”

“There's a small shopping center. I wanna go there. So pull over.”

“Oh.”

He pulled into the parking lot, yanking the car haphazardly into a spot and fiddling with his seatbelt. Alana put a hand on his arm and turned off the radio.

“Connor. Please calm down.”

“I'm fine. I'm- I'm calm. There's no reason for me not to be—”

“ _ Connor _ .”

“...”

Connor sighed.

“I'm calm.”

“Good. Maybe you should take off the jacket, it's way too hot to-”

“No.”

“C’mon, nobody's gonna notice--”

“No!”

Alana clicked her tongue and unbuckled herself.

“Okay, then, I guess you'll do fine in this 96° heat in black and a dumpster jacket.”

She grabbed her purse and shut the door, walking to Connors side and waiting for him to get out. He was uncomfortable looking as he left the car, immediately starting to sweat under the heat.

“Let's get inside, they'll have AC.” He grumbled, dragging Alana into the small mall. Inside were a few stores like Marshalls, Forever 21, Claire's, etc. He was fanning himself by the time he was inside, much to Alana's worry. She didn't say anything, though, and just led him into a Forever 21- she really liked that store and didn't know exactly what to do at the mall with friends but shop- she'd only been in that situation twice before.

“.. Um- can I wait outside?” Connor said after a while, spending most of the time trailing awkwardly after Alana and looking around. She looked back at him.

“Why?”

“.. Uh- cause, I don't- this isn't a store I wanna be in. I look weird.”

“Connor, you're fine. Didn't you say you liked what I was wearing? They have a men's section- maybe you can try on some of those bright colours you were talking about.”

Connor shook his head quickly, scratching the back of his neck.

“No, no. I can't. I'll look bad.”

“.... So? Who cares?”

“But, like,”

“Connor.” She turned around and shoved a couple items of clothing into his hands. “Try these on. Get out of your comfort zone and stop being so nervous! If you're into fashion, own it! If you want to wear brighter colours, then do it! We could all be dead tomorrow so just  _ live. _ ”

Connor stared at her for a moment and sighed, nodding. She had a point. He looked at the clothes.

“Ah, ah, ah. No, these’ll be a surprise.” Alana grinned, leading him into the dressing rooms. “Go try ‘em on and stop being nervous, okay?”

“.... Okay.”

He went into a dressing room and Alana sat down.

“Oh!” She called after a moment. “And come out when you have it on! I wanna see!”

“Why??”

“‘Cause it's what you do at a mall with friends!” Alana bit her lip. “If- we are friends?” 

Alana heard the clothing hangers shift around.

“.... We- I don't know. I want that. But- I don't know. We'll see.”

“.. What's stopping us?”

“I don't know. We're not talking about this in the middle of a Forever 21.” He teased. Alana nodded and kept silent until Connor stepped out of the dressing room. She gasped.

“Oh my god! You look  _ great!” _

Connor looked up, brushing his hair behind his ear anxiously. “.... No, no, I don't..” He tugged at the gray sweatshirt, looking down at the three red, yellow, and blue stripes on the sleeves and the dark gray cuffs. It was a nice pop of colour- not too much.

Alana stepped forward, intent on encouraging him not only because she was  _ all about  _ self confidence and owning your fashion, but also because he would probably die of heat stroke in his old clothes.

“No, seriously, you look great. It's not too much and it fits you wonderfully! You look cute.”

Connor scoffed, pressing a hand to his heated cheek. “Uhm.. I-.... Cute? Uh.. No. Don't- say that. I mean.. It's  _ nice _ ..”

“Yeah..?”

“But I don't.. Know. It's.. Different. And expensive..”

“Expensive? This is $28. It's a steal.”

He chuckled.

“I'd  _ rather  _ steal it.” He murmured. Alana hit his shoulder lightly. “Connor, stop. We're not doing that. It's illegal.”

“..so?”

“I will report you.”

Connor groaned. “Fucking really? You're boring.”

Alana put her hands on her hips.

“Well, I'd rather not see you go to jail. So call me boring all you like but-”

“Whatever. I'll buy it. It's..” He smiled softly. “.. Cute.”

Alana beamed, opening her arms and almost wrapping them around him before moving back. Connor had moved back as well, staring at her.

“.. Uh-”

“Sorry.” She said. “I- you don't like hugs, probably, you just hugged me when you were drunk and—”

“It's.. Okay. I- it's whatever. I don't care.” He shrugged. Alana frowned.

“You- oh. Well, um-”

She pat him on the back. 

Connor laughed a little, going back into the dressing room. Alana wondered what was so funny.

Alana ended up buying a couple sweatshirts, socks, a pair of earrings, and a new skirt; Connor bought the sweatshirt, a different dark green sweatshirt with white stripes, and a forest green t-shirt. He also stole some socks and earrings- but Alana didn't need to know that. They left with Alana holding Connors hand, going on about how happy she was he was trying new things and also that he wouldn't die of heatstroke anymore. He laughed, admiring the green sweatshirt he had decided to put on instead of the gray one as they left into the car. 

Alana sighed happily, putting their stuff in the back.

“So, what now?"

Connor shrugged. 

“Dunno.. Just keep driving?”

“.... To where?”

“Dunno.”

“What?? You- I thought we were going somewhere?”

Connor shook his head. 

“Nope. Just driving."

Alana sighed, buckling in. “That's a horrible plan.”

“No, it's not.” He backed out. “We just had a good time at this random mall- that wasn't planned.”

“.. I guess.”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her, trying to get her to loosen up like she did for him. It didn't seem to be working. He sighed, putting on the radio.

“Actually,” he smirked, getting an idea. “Why don't you direct me? You can be in charge of where we're going- even if we're not really going anywhere.”

“.... Why would I wanna do that?”

“.. ‘Cause, uh,” he shifted. “You.. Uh- wanted a plan. So I figured this could give you.. Some control?”

Alana mulled over the idea a bit before nodding.

“Okay.. Yeah. Okay. Um.. Go right.”

 

\----

 

“Alana, look.”

“What? I can't see anything.”

“No, like, in the bush. Look in the bush.”

Alana squinted at the forest they had been staring at, trying to see whatever Connor was seeing.

“Y'know, it'd help if you told me what I'm looking for. You can’t just keep saying ‘Alana, look’-”

“A frog.”

“A- oh!” She pointed at the bush, seeing the big brown and green frog finally, her nail tapped against the window.

“Frog!!”

“Yeah!” 

They watched as the frog caught a fly with its tongue, ribbiting and turning towards the forest. Connor pulled the car into park and got out, startling Alana.

“Connor?? Where are you going?”

“Shh! I’m gonna get it.”

“What?? No! Connor, that thing could hurt you. You’ll get dirty! That’s a  _ brand new  _ sweater--” 

Alana groaned, knowing Connor wouldn’t listen and got out after him. He crouched down next to the frog, low to the ground. Alana watched disapprovingly.

“Connor,” She whispered. “Don’t you dare get your sweater wet.”

“I won’t..” He mumbled.

Connor slowly got level with the frog, bending down with his face in the grass until the frog moved- Connor jumped on it, picking the frog up and showing it to Alana, beaming childishly.

“Look!”

Alana gasped, impressed. She brushed off his sweater and looked at the frog.

“How’d you-”

“I catch stuff a lot.” He shrugged. He pet the frog a little, getting his finger muddy in the process. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He sat down, Alana following suit.

“.... Sorry, you probably don’t want to be, um, out catching frogs with me. It’s stupid.” Connor said after a while, sighing. Alana shook her head. “No. I like frogs. They’re, um, cute. This one’s kinda ugly but.. Y’know.” She shrugged. “It was fun.”

Connor looked up, surprised. He nodded after a bit, face tinting pink. 

“.... What should we name him?”

“Connor, we’re not keeping-”

“I know!”

“Let me finish. We’re not keeping it.”

“.... Okay. And I know.” Connor huffed. “Just- I wanna name him. I know this is fucking stupid but let me have fun.”

Alana tilted her head, moving closer. “Connor, I’m not trying to hinder our fun together..”

“.. Okay, good. Then what do we name it?”

Alana thought, examining the frog. 

“.. It’s a girl, by the way.” Connor said after a while.

“How do you know?” Alana asked.

“Well,” Connor held the frog in one hand now, scooping up some water to put on it before running his finger gently along the frog's head, pointing to where a large disc was on it's skin. “This disc is about the same size at its eye, so it’s a girl.”

Alana chuckled bemusedly, looking at the frog. “Huh. That’s neat. In that case.. Her name is Sandra.”

Connor smiled, setting Sandra down.

“Nice. Hey, ‘Lana- um-” He paused for a moment. “Is it okay if I call you ‘Lana..?”

Alana nodded cheerfully. “Mhmm!”

Connor nodded.  “Cool. Okay, so, ‘Lana, check this shit out.”

He let go of Sandra and watched her jump almost a foot high back into the forest. Alana jumped back, startled into laughter.

“Oh my god??”

“Yeah, right!?” Connor stood as well, unable to keep himself from beaming. “They can jump  _ really  _ high. I love.. Uh- frogs. Frogs are cool. Do you like frogs?”

Alana thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “I guess? I wouldn’t mind finding some more.”

“.. Do you  _ want _ to find some more?”

“Only if I get to change out of my nice clothes. And you, too.”

Connor groaned. “Fine.”

 

\---- 

 

They spent the better part of the afternoon messing around in the woods, most of which being Connor convincing Alana that this completely unsteady rock was  _ fine _ to walk on or  _ of course  _ that’s not poison ivy or  _ no, Alana, this isn’t poisonous.  _ She got it after a while, jumping around from creature to creature with Connor: Connor seemed to know a lot about nature; which was both surprising and impressive; Alana thought he knew basically nothing but what kinds of drugs to smoke- turns out he’s actually somewhat smart! That’s nice. Plus, she learned tons of frog facts.

They both sat down by the side of Connor’s car, completely and happily worn out. Alana dusted them both off, trying to get a leaf out of her hair.

“Hey, Alana?” Connor suddenly asked, looking over. Alana held up a finger and gently took out the leaf, setting it down. She lowered her finger and looked over. 

“Yes?”

“.. Um, about what you said.. Back at the mall.. I uh- I don’t know what’s stopping us. Like, from being friends. Like, um..” He bit his lip, knocking his boots together and listening to the click.

“.. Today was fun. I had fun with you. Like, a lot. I wanna.. Do this more. And, stop me if I’m being stupid-”

“Connor, you’re not stupid.”

Connor looked over.

“....”

“Oh! Uh- that wasn’t me stopping you.” Alana clarified, face going pink. Connor laughed softly, clicking stopping.

“.. I uh- Okay, I forgot what I was gonna say. Um..”

Connor took a minute to remember.

“Okay! Uh- I remember now.”

“You do?”

“Mhmm. Uh.. I was gonna say.. I want to.. Be friends with you? Like, actual friends. Not just.. ‘I’m drunk, i want a friend.’ friends.” He chuckled uneasily.

Alana gave him a smile, resting her hand next to his.

“I’d love that.”

Connor fluttered, holding her hand. 

“But,” She continued. Connor gulped. 

“But?” He repeated.

“ _ But..  _ we need to-  _ you _ need to actually commit this time. No more running away, pushing me down at lunch, kicking me and saying you hate me, no more.. Cat and mouse. I don’t want to keep trying when you don’t. And I  _ know  _ that sounds rude but..” She sighed. “I.. I can be rude. Too.”

Connor shifted, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles.

“....”

“.. Okay. Yeah. I’ll- commit. Or whatever. I wanna be friends. But, I can’t promise I’ll be perfect. I’m.. kind of an asshole.”

“.. I know. Just work on that, okay? Being a.. Jerk isn’t good. And you can- you’re actually.. Not  _ that  _ much of a jerk, okay? I’m sorry.”   


“.. Why are you sorry?”

Alana furrowed her brows, looking at the forest.

“.. I don’t know.”

They sat in silence for a while, the sun shining off of the car, pink and orange hues starting to creep into the sky, they were covered in mud and dirt, mostly Connor, Alana had taken care to keep her skirt clean, but a few specks found their way onto the pleats. Flowers littered their hair after Alana thought it would be fun to stick a daisy in Connor’s tangled mess of locks- turning into a _ ‘who could fit the most flowers into each others hair’  _ contest. 

They were content.

Connor drove Alana home, dropping her off and laughing when her dad saw her dirty clothes. He arrived home after stopping to get some chips from 7/11, shutting the door with a grin on his face, kicking off his shoes at the door. His parents seemed to be out, leaving only him and Zoe. Good. 

He went upstairs and took a shower, taking out all the flowers and setting them aside beforehand. 

After his shower, his elation had vanished, paranoia creeping in much to his disdain.  _ She hates you, she said you were a jerk, you forced the whole thing on her, you should’ve just done what she said, she didn’t have fun, you looked ridiculous, you looked like a fucking 5 year old, you look horrible in those clothes, y’know, you look horrible, you are horrible you--y-y--yy--- _

He tipped back the vodka bottle, taking a couple swigs, just enough to make him feel Not Sober. He considered taking the pills, too, but then he’d just feel like a stupid junkie. He put the couple of pills back into the baggie and yawned, counting how much he had left.

_ 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. 7..  _

He furrowed his brows. There should be 9..

He recounted, taking each pill out individually before gasping, shoving the pills back into the bag and the vodka back into the box under the paint, stomping his way into the house and pounding on the wall with his fist to get his sister’s attention.

“ZOE!? WHERE ARE YOU?”

A whimper came from the kitchen, but no reply. Connor smirked, moving into the kitchen where Zoe was gripping a knife on the counter, staring directly at him. He cornered her, making her whine again and grip it harder.

“So,” He started. “Where are my pills?”

Zoe shook her head- or maybe she was just shaking. 

“I don't- I didn’t take any--”   


“I didn’t fucking ASK-” He slammed the cupboard behind her, making her flinch. “If you took them! I asked where they  _ were _ . But now I  _ know  _ you took them, you fucking bitch.”

Zoe flinched again, putting the knife in front of her. Connor slapped it out of her hand. Zoe jumped and whimpered, starting to tremble. Connor groaned. 

“What is  _ wrong  _ with you?? Stop fucking  _ flinching _ \-- it’s making me feel bad!”

“You’re- you’re scaring me--”

“Yeah, no shit! Obviously! That’s the goddamn POINT!”

He yanked her from her corner, shoving her into the center of the kitchen and cracking his knuckles. Zoe backed up into the counter, starting to cry. 

“Connor, please-- Fuck, dude, It’s- just pills!”

She crumpled onto the counter, tears streaming from her face.

Connor stopped dead in his tracks, backing up at the sight. 

Zoe sinks to the floor, next to the fridge, curling up in a ball and sobbing. The kitchen lights seem dimmer than before- or perhaps it was the sun getting lower. Connor bit his lip, staring at her quaking shoulders and fucked up hair before scoffing.

“C’mon, stop- just stop that. You’re not gonna fucking-  _ cry  _ your way out of this.”

Zoe doesn’t stop, her sobs turning quieter, more afraid. She’s gripping something. 

Connor stares for a few more minutes before sitting down next to her and scooting over. She scoots away. He lets her.

“.. Are you.. Okay? I was just-”

“Please stop..”

“.... What? Talking?”

“...."

“You always- you always do this. You're such a - such an  _ asshole _ .” Zoe continues, wiping her eyes. Connor rolls his.

“.... You’re gonna hurt her.” She mumbles after a minute. Connor turns to her.

“Her?”

“.. Alana.”

“Wh- oh fuck OFF, Zoe, what does she have to do with  _ any  _ of--”

“Just fucking listen, Connor. For once, listen-” she takes a deep breath, shaking. “Listen to me. I need to get all of this out, even if it doesn’t make any sense because I’m so high from y-- i'm.. High. And nothing I say will make sense and.. I  _ need  _ to get this- this out.”

“.. Please.”

Connor opens his mouth to reply, but shuts it. She was shaking really badly, he should probably just let her talk.

“....” Zoe sighs, playing with the rips in her jeans, trying to calm herself with the small snaps that come from ripping them more.

“.. You're a horrible person, Connor. I hate you. A lot. You.. I don't know how to really say all this, this shit I've been trying to say for so long but didn't because.. You won't listen. Right now you're probably thinking of- of stabbing me again. That— you stabbed me. Remember that? When you were fourteen and I got mad because you stole my fucking money to buy weed? And you- you didn't even apologize, you've never apologized for that and you.. You, without even thinking, you grabbed-”

“I  _ was _ th-”

“You grabbed a  _ knife.” _ Zoe says pointedly.

“And you chased me. And then.. And then you forced yourself into my room after I screamed for- for help for— and then.. You just stabbed me. Like, I'm not going to say that.. That it was better that you stabbed me in the shoulder once than in the heart ten times or anything or that- or that you didn't kill me because.. Even though you keep saying you  _ just  _ stabbed me in the shoulder,  _ no big deal;  _ I thought I was going to  _ die. _ ” 

She takes a moment, eyes fixed on the floor. Connor doesn't say anything.

“.. And that was only two years ago. Whenever I wear something off the shoulder or- or just look at myself I can see the.. I can see the—” she hiccups, holding her right shoulder. “I can still see it. And I feel it. You're a monster and i- I love.. Alana. I love her. I don't want her to end up with a knife in her shoulder or- or leg or.. Something.”

She gulped, peeking up at Connor warily.

“I've.. I've already seen the bruises on her shins.”

“.. You love her?”

“ _ That's  _ what you're focusing on?” 

Connor shakes his head hurriedly. “No, no, I.. Uh. Fuck. Just-”

“I do.”

“.... Oh.” Connor nods.

“I'm Bi.” Zoe says, letting her hand fall from her shoulder to wrap around her legs, pulling them closer to her chest.

Connor is silent for a few moments before he speaks too.

“.. I'm gay.”

Zoe looks at him.

“.. You are?”

“Yeah.”

“.. Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Connor inhales sharply.

“And it's cool that you're.. Bi. I didn't- um. That's cool. Alana's.. A good person. If you wanna date her, y'know, she.. It's good.”

“I don't need your permission. And I don't- it's more of a.. Far away crush right now.”

“.... Got it. And, I was just saying—”

“No.” Zoe shuts him down. “You were-  _ I don't need your permission. _ ”

“Zoe, chill out. I was just-”

**_“NO!”_ **

“…”

“Anyways,” Zoe sighs. “She.. I don't want her to be hurt.. She doesn't deserve that, she doesn't need to take care of you and deal with all your- your shit.” Her voice breaks. “Please, Connor. I- do  _ one  _ nice thing and stay away. It’s all i’ve been able to think about. I don’t want you fucking her up.”

“I’m not gonna fuck her up.” He says defensively. Zoe doesn’t reply. She just sniffles.

Connor feels anger yanking on him again- this time he follows it.

He shoves Zoe bitterly, causing her to get up and brandish her pepper spray. Connor scurries to the other side of the kitchen, growling. Zoe’s thumb hovers over the trigger. 

_ Connor has a knife in his hand- a small butter knife- they’re fourteen, she can’t move, she can’t breathe, it’s bleeding. She’s bleeding.  _

“.. Put that shit away.”

Zoe looks up. 

“Not until you promise me you’ll leave her alone.”

“I’m her friend, asshole.”   


“.. You shouldn’t be. She doesn’t deserve a monster like you. You- you fucking.. Jerk.”

“....”

“.... You’ll- you’ll hurt her. You’ll snap one day and hurt her. I know it.”

“Fuck off.”

“...... She’s- she’s already been hurt.”

“That’s in the past, Z-”

“No, it’s NOT!” She yells, trigger finger twitching. “It was a week ago! She- she cried and she thought something was wrong-- she’s still sad!”

“.. She-- she.. Texted me about it yesterday. She..” She hiccuped. “.... She feels so..  _ bad.  _ She thinks it’s all her fault..”

Connor narrows his eyes, raising himself.

“....”

“Fine.”

“Huh?” Zoe blinks. 

“I'll.. I'll stay away. Maybe. ..What if she takes it the wrong way? What if she- y'know. What if me not-”

“ _ Please _ .”

“.. Can’t I just be.. Nice to her?”

Zoe leans back against the white drawers, cold metal handles digging into her back for a moment. Her jeans have more rips than before now, crudely torn at the edges. She gives him a look, a tired look through wet, desperate, eyes and thinly pressed lips.

“.. You're not a nice person, Connor. You can't.” 

“....” 

“.. I’ll think about it.” He says.

…

Zoe pockets her pepper spray when Connor leaves upstairs, crumpling onto the floor and shaking. She gets out her phone.

[Zoe B)]:  _ ‘Alana. Please be careful the next couple of days; I just told Connor something and I think he might take it out on you. Pleae be careful,’ _

[Alana <3]:  _ ‘What?? What’d you tell him?’ _

_ ‘I don’t wanna talk about it. Just be safe.’ _

_ ‘Okay..? Zoe, are you okay?’ _

_ ‘I’m fine. Bye.’ _

Zoe set down her phone, puking again into the toilet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment below! ask something, tell me something, say your favourite part, anything! im always reading and wanting your thoughts! Also don't be afraid to send me asks on my tumblr: space-is-the-place2 if you wanna be anonymous! tbh im starting to doubt that anyone actually likes this fic so it'd be.. really appreciated.


	14. Cuts and Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana is absolutely perfect and has no problems whatsoever. Connor is a loved issue to the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: // alcohol, cutting mentions, cutting, trauma ment, stabbing ment, (attempted) suicide ment, drug ment, addiction ment,
> 
> aaaaaaaaa this is late in the day sorry yall!! uhh im tired rn so i cant write nothing creative but i hope u enjoy this chapter it has some larry and connor content bc uhh larry is a Good Dad believe it or not and i want that in my fic

Connor woke up the next morning, fresh cuts and new alcohol in his stomach. He needed to get numb after that night-- god, what an awful way to end the day. Reminded of his horribleness and told to stay away from his only friend. 

He was still unsure what to do after last night- he had forgotten completely about when they were fourteen- well, she was thirteen at the time but that was basically the same at his age. Kind of. 

He opened his closet, looking at all his clothes, he reached for an old tattered shirt, pushing aside other equally abhorrent dumpster clothes and one nice green sweater. 

…

He yanked the sweater off of the hanger. It still smelled like the forest- and a bit of vanilla from Alana. He smiled, slipping it on with a pair of black ripped jeans. He looked at himself in the mirror, admiring the way the sweater made him seem formless and soft. And cute, according to Alana. 

He went downstairs, pouring himself some cereal and sitting down at the table. He felt Zoe's eyes on him.

He thought that Zoe had forgotten about that time; like how she had forgotten about when he tried to drown her in the bath when they were 8, or when he released her pet hamster into the backyard (it came back, of course) or the countless times he had stolen something from her and—

Oh.

He sipped his water, his family's voices becoming muddled.

Maybe she hasn't forgotten. Maybe all of that led up to her.. Breakdown? If she was even breaking down; that could've just been a show to make him feel bad. But Zoe wasn't that kind of person.. at least, to the best of his knowledge she wasn't.

He finished his cereal, slipping on his backpack and followig his sister outside. She was walking quicker today, getting into her car more anxiously. He frowned and knocked on the window. She yiped, staring at Connor with wide eyes.

“.... What- what is it?”

“.... Sorry.”

“.. What?”

“I'm sorry? Like, for last night. Were you.. Actually sad or were you faking? Like, what do you want from me?”

Zoe stared at him in disbelief for a couple moments before scoffing offendedly, yanking the car into reverse.

“You aren't sorry.” She said through the glass, voice breaking, before she pulled out of the driveway. 

Connor watched her go, feeling numb. Not bad numb, though, just.. Emotionless. He knew that he should be experiencing  _ something  _ \- probably anger or guilt- but he just couldn't feel. He shrugged and got into his car, driving to school through tired eyes.

As Connor got out of his car, he started to get self conscious about his clothes- and his nails, which he decided to paint blue today instead of the usual black, with golden sparkles in them. The sparkles weren't really noticeable, but to him they were like spotlights. What if people stared at him? What if someone called him gay? What if Jared made fun of him? 

He walked into school with these thoughts, tugging his backpack straps.

But, nobody noticed him. Nobody was staring at his nails or whispering about his colours or anything— the only person that noticed was Alana, waving across the hall and beaming with the knowledge that Connor was wearing the sweater she picked out for him. He blushed, waving back shyly and thumbing the fabric.

He also saw Zoe, talking to some boy in the halls. She still looked shaken, but was laughing along with him about something. Connor narrowed his eyes at her and she seemed to stop, retracting her hand from the boys arm to her chest. 

Connor hummed. Maybe she was just faking afterall- she seemed to have no problems laughing and smiling along with some kid.

 

\----

 

“They look so pretty!”

Connor blushed. “Thanks.. I um- tried something different.”

He retracted his hand from Alana's grasp, looking at his nails again. They were on the red bench outside, lunches finished. 

“.. Hey, Alana? Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah! Of course!” She said cheerily. 

“.... After I said I hated you and that you were weird, what happened? Like, was it.. Are you still mad at me?”

Alana's smile dropped. 

“Oh.. I um..”

Connor bit his lip.

“.... I.. Was sad. And I talked to Zoe a little about it and.. Um- yeah.”

“.. Are you still mad at me? Or, sad at me..?”

“.... Well, yes, I'm still sad. But not..  _ At  _ you.”

Connor sighed in relief. “Oh, thank god. Okay, cool-”

“Can I ask  _ you  _ something?”

Connor blinked. “Oh, um.. Sure?”

“.... Zoe texted me last night.”

Connor scowled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. She said.. I should be careful around you. That you.. Might be mad and might hurt me? What was that about?  _ Are  _ you going to hurt me?”

“No.” He growled. “She's- she's overreacting. I mean, all the shit I did was  _ bad  _ but.. I'm not gonna hurt  _ you  _ over it.”

“.... What'd you do?” She asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off.

“.... Nothin’.”

“C’mon, Connor. You gotta tell me.”

Connor rolled his eyes.

“Fine, but only because I know you won't shut up about it until I do.”

He placed his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together as he thought about how to explain he was a horrible person to Alana. Alana watched him with a frown as he started to speak, fumbling with the words.

“So.. When I was fourteen I started.. Getting addicted to drugs, right? I had just stolen my first bottle of alcohol and I.. Sold my sisters favourite necklace to buy some acid. So when she asked about the necklace I told her I sold it and she got mad and we got into a fight and then I uh.."

He chuckled forcibly.

".. I got a _little_ weird.. and stabbed her-”

Alana gasped.

“Hold on!” He sat up. “In the _shoulder_. I stabbed her in the shoulder. So it's okay.”

Alana blinked, backing up.

“You- what?? No, that's not—  _ what _ ??”

“.. I mean, I still stabbed her and that was shitty but I wasn't trying to kill her, y'know?”

“.. Connor, that's.. Not okay.”

“I know!”

“But you just said it was okay??”

“No?”

“You  _ literally just  _ said ‘so it's okay.’”

“.... No.”

“Connor."

Connor sighed gruffly, leaning back into the bench.

“Yeah, well, it's better than me trying to kill her.”

“It could've killed her. She could've moved and then-”

“Shut up!”

Alana went silent.

“Anyways,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I uh.. Have another question.”

Connor looked up at the silence, biting his lip at Alana's worried and uncomfortable expression.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “I um- get angry and shit. A lot. I'm sorry. Uh.. Stabbing isn't good, probably-”

“Definitely.”

“Huh?”

“Stabbing isn't good. Period.”

“.... I guess.”

“No, not  _ I guess,  _ Connor. Jesus Christ, you  _ stabbed your sister??” _

Connor winced. “Don't phrase it like that! And yes! I'm sorry! Can I ask my question??”

“.. Sure.”

“.. So, Zoe told me to stay away from you because.. I'm a bad person and she thinks I'm gonna hurt you- which I'm not, by the way- and then you'll cry again? I mean, I wanna.. Respect her wishes and shit just in case she isn't faking but.. I wanna be your friend and I know I wouldn't hurt you. What should I do?”

Alana leaned back onto the bench, contemplating his question. She brushed back some of her hair, looking up into the clear sky and watching a cloud for a moment before she turned back to him.

“I think you should respect her wishes but.. I also want to hang out with you. Like, I don’t think you’ll hurt me that badly and if you do.. Um..” She frowned. “..Well, I dunno. I guess I’ll be hurt. You’re a lot bigger than me.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“How do I know that? You stabbed Zoe.”

Connor blinked. 

“Wait!” Alana jolted. “Um! I didn’t mean that rudely! Like, I didn’t- I’m sorry. I mean, I don't know if that was rude but..”

Connor shook his head.   
“.. It’s.. It’s fine. I know I’m an asshole and I just-- I hurt people sometimes.”

“.. Well, you shouldn’t.”

“I  _ know  _ that, asshole.” He growled. “I can’t help it, I have anger issues.”

“So?”

“So, I get angry!”

“.. And you  _ have  _ to act on that?”

Connor sat up, gritting his teeth.

“No, I don’t  _ have  _ to but if I don’t i’ll feel like shit!”

“.. How so?”

“What’s with all the fucking questions!?”

Alana yanked Connor’s arm towards her, glaring at him.

“Connor Murphy, do not yell at me.”

Connor winced. “Ew, gross, don’t- don’t say my full name like that.”   


“Why not?”

“You sound like my mom.”

Alana narrowed her eyes.   


“Well, I think your mom’s a great person so thank you. Don’t yell at me like that, okay?” 

Alana sat back up, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans and taking a calming breath. She knew from Wikihow that she had to stand her ground when dealing with someone like Connor but it was.. Really scary. She looked back at Connor to see how he was reacting.

Connor was boiling; not on the surface level, but more of his muscles were tingling with rage, high strung like a crossbow loaded with tension. He was trying to calm himself down, thumping the bench nonchalantly with his fist and breathing deeply.

“.. Sorry.” He said. “I’m just getting out my anger.”

Alana smirked.

“So, actually, Connor, that’s a good way to take that out- I thought you said you can’t control it?”

Connor grit his teeth. “Shut up, Alana, or I’ll redirect this at your face.”

Alana paled, standing up. Connor realized what he said and quickly stood up with her.

“Wait, wait, wait, I meant- sorry, knee-jerk reactio--”

The bell rang.

Alana turned away from him, shaking her head. 

“Connor, I want to be your friend but you promised me you’d be nice. So, until you’re nice I’m.. I’m not gonna calm you down for you.” She gripped her lunchbox. “.. Okay? You need to learn how to control that- I don’t want a knife in me.”

Connor whimpered. “Dude, c’mon, don’t bring up the knife shit--”

“I  _ will  _ bring it up.” She straightened her back, raising her chin up high to appear taller. “Because it’s very important right now. So, as you once told me:  _ figure it out.” _

Alana turned to walk, but Connor grabbed her. She yelled, falling down.

“Connor! Don’t- your nails are so--”

“I know.” He cut her off, leaning down and ignoring the eyes on him. “I just- listen. Even though I’m an asshole you promised- um- you promised me we would stop doing this, remember? We’d just be normal friends? No more of this weird.. Um-  _ ‘we’re not friends but we’re friends’  _ shit, right? So you can’t leave.”

Alana mulled it over, recalling the conversation in her head before sighing.

“Yes, I suppose I did say that.. However, I think.. I still think you should get all of your issues under control, Connor. I’m happy to help with that, y’know.” She got up, dusting herself off. “I want to be a therapist when I grow up.”

Connor cringed. “Um.. No. I don’t want therapy. Therapy’s gross.”

“What?? Connor, therapy is good for you-”

“No, it’s not. I’ve tried it.” He deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “Like, a million times. I can’t ever even talk to anyone about my shit either because then they’ll ‘ _ call the cops _ ’ or whatever because i’m apparently a” He bent his fingers as quotes sarcastically. “ _ ‘danger to myself and others’.”  _ So, no, therapy’s shit.”

“.. Well, I won’t call the cops on you.”

“Alana, I can’t put all my shit on you. It’s not good for you. You’d- you’d be stressed. Probably- I don’t know. I know that, like, burdening people with problems is bad so.. No.”

“.. Fine, then.” She huffed. “What if we both.. Therap- …. Therapize.. Eachother?”

“Therapize?” Connor repeated snarkily. Alana groaned.

“You know what I meant.”

“Right.” He chuckled. “But, still, uh.. I dunno.”

“We don’t have to do any council sessions or anything, just.. We could go back to that one place with the frogs? And just talk?” 

Connor blushed, all the memories of that amazing evening coming back to him. He smiled and nodded, decisions glazed over in the sunset of that afternoon. “Yeah, yeah.. Sure, yeah. When?”

Alana shrugged. “I’m not sure. I have to get to APUSH now, though. I’ll text you later.”

Connor nodded. “Okay, yeah.” 

He feels weird as he watches her go back inside, and then weirder as he goes back inside himself. He can’t quite place the feeling. Maybe it’s dread- the same dread he felt when he was going to his first therapy session, which went horribly, by the way: he ended up wasting his money for a week of small talk and then one horrible moment of coming out to his therapist. His therapist said some homophobic shit which he did  _ not  _ like so he kicked her and got grounded. 

It was like that, but softer. Like, maybe it was because Alana was a friend- well, probably a friend. He wanted her to be a friend, and he knew her better than some random thirty-five year old woman.

 

\----

 

“Eugh, I’m glad I wore my art pants today.” Alana said, trying to wipe off some mud from her black paint splattered pants. They were in the forest again, which was weird and foreign now that they had actually planned it, like they were trying too hard to be normal kids.

“You do art?” Connor looked over from dipping their new friend Robert the Frog into the river. Alana nodded. “Mhmm. I paint.” 

He ‘ooh’ed, bringing Robert out of the water and handing him to Alana. Alana accepted the frog, trying to hold it like Connor had told her to so it could breathe. It croaked and she laughed, petting it.

“I wish I could paint.” He said.

“You can.”

“.. No, I can’t- I’m not good at--”

“Didn’t say you had to be any good. You just gotta try it.” She said simply, setting down Robert and letting Connor give him a goodbye pat before releasing him back into the shrubbery. 

They sat there for a while, just listening to the river’s flowing around the unsteady rocks they had sat upon and keeping an eye on the dragonflies zipping about on the water.

“.. So, are we gonna talk?” Connor asked. 

Alana nodded. “Mhmm. Whenever you’re ready, just talk to me.”

“.. What about?”

“.. How about..” She thought. “.. Why’d you stab your sister?”

Connor grimaced, picking up a rock and tossing it across the more smooth part of the river. It didn’t bounce. 

“.. Do I really have to?”

“Yep.”

“.. Fine, I guess. Um.. I was mad.”

…

Alana looked over.

“That’s- that’s it? That’s the whole reason?”

“.. I guess. Yeah.”

“.. Well, okay..” She trailed off, disheartened. 

A minute later she turns to Connor, watching him attempt to skip rocks. 

“.. How about this:” She starts. “Why were you mad?”

Connor pressed his lips together, taking a while to answer.   


“She asked where my- well, uh.. She asked where her necklace was.”

“.. Okay, and?”

“And I don’t wanna talk about it.”   


“Connor, please.”   


“No! You always make me talk about shit. I don’t wanna- talk things out.”

Alana crossed her arms, cocking her head sassily. 

“So you’d rather just bottle everything up until you lose it?”

Connor laughed wryly. “Man, I lost it years ago. I’ve been bottling up shit since I was born. Just one talking session or whatever isn’t gonna.. Fix me.”

Alana frowned. “Oh.”

“.... Why don’t I ask you something?”

“Huh?"

“Like.. This is a mutual thing. I help you.. You help me. Like, it’s good.” Connor clarified, tossing another futile rock and growling. He slammed a rock into the water this time, creating a splash that scared off some fish.

“....”

“.. Sorry, uh.. Let me ask you a thing.” He looked over. “.. Uh.. like, why did you.. Follow me outside? That one day? When I yelled at everyone and left?”

Alana chuckled uncomfortably. “I’d rather- I don’t have problems.”

Connor recoils, blinking wide-eyed and scoffing. He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head at Alana, taking a second before letting out a single. “Huh?”

“Like,” She fumbled, face getting hot. “I don’t- have problems like you do. I’m completely mentally normal other than the fact i’m autistic; which isn’t  _ abnormal _ of course but I don’t have.. Depression. Or anxiety.” She said the last couple words with slight disgust, like she was talking about a disease. 

Connor tsked, rolling around a pebble in his hand. 

“So you’re, like, perfect then?”

“No! I didn’t say that.”

“Okay.. Then if you don’t have  _ mental  _ problems, what’s another problem you have?”

“I don’t have any problems you can help with Connor, they’re all very trivial things--”   


“Alana.” he says loudly, flicking the pebble at her chest. “Shut up. I don’t give a shit how ‘trivial’ your problems are-- you’ve done nothing but bug me about _my_ problems and now you’re gonna have to talk about  _ your  _ feelings.”

“But--”   


“You’re the one who said we should do this.” He remarked. “So start venting. I’m listening.”

He tossed another rock across the pond, it skipping twice. He whooped, getting a big grin on his face before picking up another.

Alana watched him, feeling unsure and like she was going to puke. Only slightly, though, just a small tightness in her throat. “.. I um-”

She cleared her throat, taking a rock and palming it to release stress.

“.. I have homework. A lot. And it drains me sometimes and sometimes I get only an hour of sleep..”

“ _ What _ ?” He looked over. “Dude, you need sleep.”

“I know that. I just don’t sleep until I’m done with my homework.” She whined. “Oh, god, i’m already probably.. Two hours behind..”

Connor frowned, setting down the rock he was holding.

“.. After this,” He said. “We should.. Sleep.”

“What?”

“Like, I dunno. Find a nice patch of grass in here and just take a nap? You need it and I like going into what’s basically a free trial of death; so..” He shrugged.

Alana shook her head. “No, I-- I don’t want to risk it.”

“.. I won’t hurt you-”

“I wasn’t talking about you.” She says pointedly. “I meant bears. And wolves. And maybe weird people who come into the forest and see a defenseless girl sleeping in the middle of nowhere.”

“.. Oh.” He frowned. “There are no.. bears or- whatever.” 

“.. How about in my car?” He suggested. 

“No,” Alana quickly shot down. “A/C would turn off and it’d cost you too much gas and then I’d have to repay you but I don’t have that much money and then we could get trapped and--”

“Whoa, whoa, okay. Calm down.” Connor says worriedly. Alana didn’t realize she was panting until his arm was around her, pulling her into a small half-hug. “Like, seriously, it’s not a big deal. I could stay up and keep watch if you’re that worried? Or, like, we could just forget it? Calm down.”   


“I am calm.” She says unconvincingly, muffled by Connor’s shirt. He sighs.

“.. Um- I know how it feels.”

“.. What?”

“.. Nothin’.” He swallows, letting her go and putting his hand back to himself.

“No, No, what was it?” She prods, scooting closer to him so that they’re almost hugging again. He blushes, hunching into himself.

“.. Like, being paranoid and.. Stuff. I get those thoughts all the time.”

“I’m not paranoid.” 

“Oh, shut up.” He scoffed. “You’re not perfect, asshole. Stop--” He took a deep breath, growling. “Dude, sorry, fuckin’-- you’re not an asshole..” He says with the dejectedness of a toddler. “I just.. It was weird when you said you had no problems? Like, how do you expect me to open up if you literally say you’re perfect?”

“I said I had problems. They’re just trivial.”

“Ugh!” He leaned back, trying to rest his head on a rock but quickly sitting up once he found a bug on it. 

“.. Just- you seem scared. I can relate.”

“.. Scared?”

“Yeah. Like, uh.. You said all that paranoid shit and then.. You always take  _ way  _ too long to think before answering something and you clarify things too much and.. It’s all so weird? Like, in a unique way- not a bad one; all those things make you seem.. Scared of something?”

“Wh- I’m not- I’m not  _ scared-” _

“Dude, chill.”

“No! I won’t chill!” Alana suddenly shouted, starting to crush her stress rock. “I am completely  _ fine _ and  _ okay  _ and  _ CHILL. I am totally  _ chill !  I’m not scared of  _ anything  _ and I’m _ FINE!”  _ She stood up at the last word, forgetting how unsteady the rocks were and fell, coughing up water. She looked like a mess, hair popping out from her braids. 

Connor looked completely bewildered, helping her out of the river and setting them both down on the bank. She was panting, trying to smack water out of her ears. Connor had never seen her mad before- and honestly, it made him feel bad. Not even guilty, just bad. 

“.. So, like,” He coughed awkwardly. “Are we done talking?”

“.. No, no, sorry; You can keep going.”

“.. What about you, though?”

“I already told you i’m  _ FINE. _ ” She growled, shooting Connor a nasty look.

“....”

Connor thought about what to do right now; he honestly was just thinking of leaving. After all, he got her mad so if he left, she’d be less mad? But also.. Alana usually could calm  _ him  _ down quickly with a few tricks.. Maybe…

He impulsively hugged her, letting her wet clothing soak into his. She struggled at first, grumbling and saying she was  _ fine  _ and  _ okay _ and they should  _ really just go catch more frogs  _ before finally relaxing into it, wrapping her unsteady arms around him and resting her face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t mind.

They stayed like that for the next ten minutes, Connor, with his now soaked clothes, leaned against a tree and held a weak and tired Alana, who was drifting in and out of consciousness both from emotional exhaustion and from exploring around with Connor for the past few hours. It was nice, what they had going on here. Somehow, this hug was more cathartic than any therapy session he’d been to; just holding his friend in his arms and feeling her chest softly rise and fall against his next to a glistening and musical river just made him feel.. Better.

When he was awoken, it was about 6 PM, an hour and thirty minutes since they had fallen asleep. Alana was frantic, texting and talking quickly at a very sleepy Connor. Her hair was undone and kind of wild. Connor liked it, thinking it was cute.

“Connor? Connor!” She shook him again. “I have to get home! Please drive me!”   


Connor stretched himself out until he heard a pop in his bones. 

“Mm.. Why can’t you drive?” He yawned lazily. 

“Oh! Right!” She gasped. “I have my- yeah! Come on!”

She pulled by the arm into the car, buckling in herself and him before taking off towards home to the local Alternative Rock station. Connor slept until Alana woke him up and told him thanks, and that she needed to go because of homework and her dad being pissed about a low grade or something- Connor wasn’t really listening but nodded along like he was: saying it was fine and that they could text later. Or maybe skype. Alana nodded enthusiastically, seemingly recovered from her miniature anger meltdown, and left.

He sighed as she went, feeling a warm shadow in the shape of her on his chest missing. He felt empty.

He went home.

 

\----

 

Alana slammed her door shut, tears streaming down her face. She had failed her big math test and was grounded for the entirety of tomorrow. Also, she was now thinking about all her problems and anxieties and horrible thoughts she bottled up inside herself for years at a time and how she looked like a total  _ freak  _ in front of Connor when she was supposed to be the calm and collected one; she fell down in the water, had a meltdown, and then slept! On him! For about an hour! Could she be any more embarrassing!

She wiped away her tears, trying to do the same to the shame that showed it’s red self blatantly on her face. She needed to get all of this out- she needed an outlet.

She marched over to her bed, throwing off her wet shirt and bra before taking a pillow and shoving it into her face, screaming into the fabric and then punching it across the room. She panted, still feeling a slight rush of adrenaline in her as she took off the rest of her clothes, swapping them for her cutest,  _ happiest _ , pair of PJs. 

She laid down, punched the bed and screamed some more before finally feeling her muscles unwind. God, she hated when she was like this: all emotional and.. Feeling things. She felt like she looked manic- and hated that, even though nobody was watching. Her emotions just released, is all; all of the anger she’d been holding in for years had to come out at some point.

She sighed, grabbing her therapeutic stuffed animal and snuggling it close. She still had her phone with her; which she knew she wasn’t allowed to use but.. 

[Febreeze (alana)]:  _ ‘Hey! Sorry about earlier, I was just a bit tired. We can still talk if you need to get anything out. Also I’m grounded now because I failed my test so I can’t talk much in person or hang out.’ _

 

\----

 

When home, Connor decided to take a nap- he didn't bother showering until his mom told him to because he was getting mud all over the house. 

When he was done with his shower, he checked his phone and saw the text, opening it up and reading it. He frowned.

[Connor (frog emoji)]: _ ‘why do you want to talk so badly? U good?’ _

_ The response was immediate. _

[Febreeze (Alana)]: _ ‘I'm fine. Are you?’ _

_ ‘Yeah’ _

_ ‘No, you're not.’ _

_ ‘Okay then why'd you ask?’ _

_ ‘I don't know. Are you okay?’ _

_ ‘Apparently not. Are you?' _

_ ‘Yes.’ _

_ ‘No, you're not :)’ _

_ ‘Connor!!’ _

_ Connor laughed. _

_ ‘what's wrong?’ _

[Febreeze (Alana)]: _ ‘nothing is wrong. I'm sorry.’ _

_ ‘Y r u sorry’ _

_ ‘For bringing it up. Also for what I did at the river.’ _

_ ‘It's fine. I've already had like theree mental breakdowns in front of u so ur allowed to have one too’ _

_ ‘It wasn't a breakdown’ _

_ ‘Three* and okay sure’ _

_ ‘Connor I can't have breakdowns. I don't have mental illness’ _

_ ‘Breakdowns can happen to anyone, dumbass.’ _

_ ‘Don't call me that’ _

_ ‘Nah. W/e it was nice hanging out w u. I liked catching the frogs’ _

_ ‘Same! I actually put a frog emoji next to your name :-)’ _

_ ‘Aw haha. I put febreeze as urs’ _

_ ‘Why?’ _

_ ‘BC of that one time u sprayed me w febreeze that u had in ur bag for some reason’ _

_ ‘I have a sensitive nose’ _

_ ‘Yet u can stand the smell of the forest?’ _

_ ‘Yes.’ _

“Connor? What's that on your arm?”

Connor looked up from the dinner table, setting down his phone. “Hm?”

His mother frowned, pointing to his wrist. “That. What is that?”

Connor looked down at his cuts and inhaled sharply, yanking down his sleeve.

“Nothing. Um- it's just a couple scratches from the woods.”

“.. Connor, I'm not dumb.” His mother sighed. “You- shouldn't be doing that.. I thought you stopped.”

“.. I did. It's-”

“Don't lie to me!” His mother half-yelled, scrunching her face up. “Do we need to get you a therapist again?"

Connor shook his head quickly, pulling down both of his sleeves. 

“No—”

“Connor.” His father interjected. “I think it's time we start you seeing a therapist again.”

“It's a waste of money!”

Cynthia frowned, almost looking hurt.

“Honey.. Making sure you're happy isn't a waste of money.”

“I won't say anything.”

“Well, that's a bad idea.” His father chewed. “Therapy isn't a waste, Connor, but if you don't do anything with it then it is. Those cuts are serious business—”

“Oh,  _ are they?”  _ Connor snarled, feeling dramatic again. “What about last time you saw them? Ninth grade? Remember what you said?”

“Connor-” Cynthia tried.

“That I was just  _ doing it for attention _ ?”

His father frowned, setting down his drink and sighing. “Connor, can you blame me? I thought it was just a.. Teenager thing until you.. Well.”

It went silent.

Zoe cleared her throat, getting up.

“I'm gonna- go.”

Connor glared at her. She gulped.

“To- to my room.”

Connor returned to his parents faces- disgruntled and worrying.

“That's it.” His mother said with some finality. “We're sending you back to a therapist. That's final.”

“But-”

“Connor. That's  _final."_

Connor's anger yanked him upwards, growling at his father and curling his fist around the fork.

“Fuck you! You didn't even care when I tried to kill myself! You didn't care when I cut and you sure as fuck don't care now!”

He stormed upstairs before he could think, slamming his door shut.  He got a text, ignoring it.

He got a second one and sighed, checking it.

[Zoe]:  _ ‘hey whersd you go today?’ _

[Asshole]:  _ ‘why do you wanna know’ _

_ ‘Was it with Alana?’ _

_ ‘Yeah. I haven't hurt her any, okay? We just caught frogs then took a nap. She's fine’ _

_ ‘But you will hurt her. Please leave hwd alone’ _

_ ‘I already talked to her abt it and all she said was that she wasn't gonna calm me down or some shit like that. Were good’ _

_ ‘Connor. You dong undsterand I need her safe’ _

_ ‘Zoe, listen. I know I did a fucked up thing but that was years ago. I'm not gonna stab anyone again unless they stab me first lol’ _

_ ‘Shhtu the fuck up youte still the same asshole from three years ago.' _

_ ‘no im not. stfu.’ _

_ ‘No.' _

_ ‘fine.’ _

He put down his phone and heard a knock.

“Connor?”

Ugh, his dad. Wait- his dad? Why the fuck was his dad at the door? 

He got up and opened the door, sleeves surely rolled down.

“What is it?” He asked boredly.

“Can I come in?”

Connor blinked, confused.

“Um.. Sure? It's messy, though..”

Larry cleared off a spot on the bed, sitting down and patting the space next to him. Connor sat down, thumbing his shirt.

“So..” His father began awkwardly. “Do you need to talk?”

“..What?”

“Do you need to talk? About this?” He gestured to Connors wrist. Connor winced. 

“No. I.. Why do you care?”

“I'm your dad! It's my  _ job  _ to care!”

Connor scoffed weakly. “Shut up. It's- you didn't care before—”

“That was before Zoe found you half-dead in your room.” He said bluntly, placing a hand on Connors back. “I don't want that happening again and.. Since you've started..” He gestured vaguely. “..that up again. I figured I should.. Be here.”

Connor stared at Larry, shoulders slumping into his father’s touch. He bit his lip and rubbed at his arm, shifting on the bed uncomfortably.

“Um.. Thanks, I guess, but.. I don’t wanna.. No. I don’t- it’s complicated and I don’t--”

“I can- it’s okay if it’s.. Complicated.”

“No, like, I don’t even know why I’m doing this I just.. Do. It feels right. So, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Well, there’s- no, they’re lots to talk about!” Larry tried, smiling weakly at his son. He saw the kid in Connor’s face, insecure and soft.

“No, there isn’t.” Connor frowned. “I don’t- thanks but.. No thanks, dad. I um- appreciate you.. Coming up here. I guess. Thanks..”

“.. No problem.” Larry smiled tightly, giving Connor a firm pat on the back before clearing his throat and going to the doorway.

“.. Hey, Connor?”

Connor looked up. 

“.. I uh- don’t say this often but.. I love you.”

Connor felt his chest tighten.

“.. Um.” He took in some air, forgetting for a second. “I.. okay. Thanks- um..”

He bit his lip.

“.. I love- I love you, too.”

Larry repressed a smile and nodded, giving a thumbs up before leaving and shutting Connor’s door quietly. Connor took a moment to just sit there before snapping out of it and picking up his phone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave me a comment! tell me your fave things, ask questions, anything! I love them and you can post as many as you want.


	15. Dumpster Diving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Kids, bad grades, makeup, and ranking systems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter wasnt proofread lmao so sorry if it fucking sucks but i dont think its like.. garbage so here we go!
> 
> tw for: mentions of suicide, drug ment, blood, uhh idk whatelse theres a brief alcohol mention but nothing too bad. just the word alcohol.
> 
> ps: i cant add emojis to ao3 so whenever its like (frog emoji) in the actual fic there would be a frog emoji. not just the words.

Alana tried to smudge away the tears on her paper, crying quietly. She knew she shouldn't be crying, but the stress of this week was too much: and this grade was the icing on her horrible, garbage, cake.

An 89

She laid back on the bed, the red numbers taunting her. She had studied all night last night- all for an  _ 89!  _ She was at least glad she didn't burst out crying in the middle of class; that would've been the cherry on top- or whatever other food metaphor there was to show how exactly horrible her week had been.

She crumpled up the paper furiously and shot it at the door just as her dad was opening it. It hit him in the chest- distracting him well enough for a second for Alana to yank her tear trails off her face and slap on a smile; not too big of a smile, though, her father probably expected her to be broken over this so she had to keep it realistic.

“Hey, honey,” Her dad started, sitting down next to her. “Listen.. I saw your grade on the website and I heard you crying—”

“I wasn't crying.” Alana quickly, hopefully, corrected.

“.. Honey, I know you were crying. Don't close yourself off from me.” He said in a stern voice. Alana frowned. 

“Anyways,” he continued. “89 ain't that bad, this was a 60 question test, right? I know how hard you studied and it's okay, I'm not gonna ground you.”

Alana smiled and hugged her dad superficially. “Thanks, but I'm fine.”

Her dad enveloped her in one of his warm like honey hugs, giving it a good moment before pulling away. “Alright, honey. Good luck on the next one.”

He got up and left reluctantly. Alana sighed once the door clicked shut, tension releasing from her shoulders but migrating to the rest of her. She sighed, picking up her phone. Oh! Connor had texted her!

[Connor (frog emoji)]:  _ ‘hey so.. Do u know what we're supposed to do for the backpacker magazine thing? Idk what to annotate’ _

Alana raced to type out a reply. She needed a small distraction for a while, and Connor.. Well, actually, he was a great distraction. He made her happy (most of the time) and she needed happy. She needed her friend. Her only friend (other than Zoe, but she was a  _ best _ friend).

[Febreeze (Alana)]: ‘ _ Yes, I do. I could help you with it if you wanted?’ _

_ ‘Uhh yeah I was asking abt u helping me’ _

_ ‘I know. Maybe you can come over and we can study?’ _

_ ‘For what?’ _

_ ‘The test coming up this week..?’ _

_ ‘THERES A TEST??’ _

_ ‘Yes, there is!’ _

_ ‘Shit yeah okay cool ig I hate studying but ur alright so’ _

_ ‘yeah’ _

Alana beamed. Good. Good. They were going to hang out: she loved hanging out. 

_ ‘Great! :-) Come over before 6 please.’ _

_ ‘Cool. I'm Uhh I'll drive over rn’ _

_ ‘Great! See you soon!’ _

_ ‘:)’ _

When the doorbell rang, Alana hurried down, yanking open the door and startling Connor with a smile and a friendly “Hello!”

Connor stared at her for a moment before relaxing uncertainly and came in, kicking off his boots.

“Heya.”

Alana gave him a quick up and down, noticing he was wearing the gray sweatshirt they had bought together and smiled, the air of formality thinning around her. 

“Heya.” She echoed. “Wanna go upstairs?”

Connor nodded, following Alana upstairs to her room. Her room was a nice eggshell white, on one wall was a three part window with a small window seat, which upon laid a french horn case (and presumably an impeccably polished instrument inside), the small pillows were white with small yellow stripes. On another was a small bed with a blue and white floral bedding, small Polaroids and stickers on the actual wall, pinned or taped next to a tapestry with a black and white mandala on it. The rest of the room had some basics, a small black desk next to the window seat, a closet, a mirror, a bookshelf, and miscellaneous items organized around the room. 

“This is.. Really nice.” Connor breathed. Alana scoffed shyly. “No.. It's not the best..”

Connor shook his head, taking a crumpled up test packet out of his pocket and sitting down on the window seat. “No, no, stop that. It's gorgeous. I wish my room was like this. Minus all the books and posters and shit- but I like the layout and.. The little.. Blanket thingy you've got up there.” He pointed to the mandala. 

Alana sat next to him and smiled. “It's a mandala. And thank you.”

“No problem. Okay, so.. What are the answers?”

Alana tutted disapprovingly, taking the paper from him and smoothing it out. “No, no, Connor.. You're gonna learn this.”

“What?? Dude, no.” He whined. “I know you're, like, smart and everything but I ain't so.. Fuck no.”

Alana shushed him. “Connor, stop it. You're not dumb and I'm not smart. Let's start.”

“Wh- you get 100s in every class, dude. You're, like, a genius.”

Alana shushed him again, smirking. “No, no.. I'm really not~”

"Dude. Yes you are."

Alana waved him off again coyly. 

Connor narrowed his eyes.

“..well, okay, then. I guess not.”

Alana blinked, frowning. “Um.. But- I mean..”

Connor rolled his eyes. “It's fine. You're smart. Just gimme the answers.”

“No, Connor, you need to learn. Try this, okay?"

Connor groaned loudly, scribbling down some random stuff then scrapping the paper towards her. She glanced at it then smiled sympathetically, putting it back in Connors lap.

“C’mon, Connor, you can do it. Here, I'll give you the  _ one  _ answer.”

She handed him her packet, neat cursive handwriting all in pen.

Connor started copying down her answer before he furrowed his brow, examining the paper closely.

“.. This is wrong.”

Alana, who was busy on another homework assignment as he was copying, paled and turned to him. “What?”

“This is.. Wrong. His intent wasn't to entertain: it was to persuade.”

Alana chuckled nervously. “Umm.. No? Mine is.. Right. It's to entertain because it's a story..”

“No.. It- well, it  _ could  _ be a story.” He sat up, leaning over and started, to her horror, pointing out her mistakes.

“But it could also be a true story. This story, whether true or not.. Is trying to convey that all life has meaning; that's why um- here-” he put his finger on paragraph 5. “It says that ‘his life is no more precious than the flowers and bugs he is stepping on’. So, it's to persuade the audience to believe that all life is valuable.”

Alana nodded slowly, taking a second glance at her answer and whimpering. “Oh, man. I didn't- how did I miss that..? I— I thought you said you were having.. Trouble?”

“Yeah, I guess. Um- I dunno. Just seems obvious to me.” He shrugged.

Alana gulped, sheet white, and whited out her annotations, wishing she had written it all in pencil: that way, she could erase her mistakes instead of sloppily covering them up. 

As Connor continued to point out her mistakes and help her with the homework  _ she  _ was supposed to be helping  _ him _ with Alana's thoughts were invaded by that small mantra that always came back to her when she was distressed.

_ Stand up, walk out, and leave. _

It wasn't something from a movie or show, it was of her own idealistic thoughts. She never wanted this- she never wanted to face this kind of failure or be corrected by the dumbest person she knows- be corrected by someone who  _ literally smokes pot all the time and who's IQ is actually, literally, damaged because of it. _ She doesn't want to study for tests, do the homework, study whether or not something's persuasive or entertaining or any of that useless bullcrap she'll never think about again. She needs to-

_ Stand up, walk out, and leave. _

In all honesty, she could. She could stand up, walk out, and leave. Go into the woods, go live somewhere else, move. Not care about school, not care about success, not care that she'll end up working at a fast-food joint. Just stand up, walk out, and leave.

Ideally, she'd want to abandon all of this safely: to live like those animals she saw in children's books when she was young. The ones who lived in little cottages, with old-timey settler clothes, farming and having fun outdoors. Maybe like those old times, when settlers were migrating across the USA for shelter. They lived good. I mean, they all got dysentery among other horrible things but.. Alana would rather live and die like that then live how she was living right now. If she could just.. Leave this whole world. Just leave it, and succeed in life rather than in academics, she'd be content. Maybe she'd even be fulfilled. 

“Alana?”

Alana snapped out of her dreams, speaking belatedly. “Uh- yeah?”

“.. You good?”

“.. Yeah.” 

But, that could never be. There were no little cottages that weren't expensive, she had no idea how to farm, she wasn't a charming little bunny rabbit and there were no villages in the woods where she could escape to.

It was nice to have dreams, of course. Everyone should have a dream.

But, dreams are just that. Dreams. She can't escape from society. She can't live. She can't be free. She can't. She knows she can't.

She sterned her face, feeling her lip quiver. She didn't need this right now. She was going to focus on finishing this: because if she finishes, she can at least be happy in one way: Accomplishment.

When they finished, Connor was much happier than he was before. He looked at his paper proudly and stuffed it back in his pocket. Alana tried to keep a neutral yet happy face on.

“So..” Connor led. “What do you wanna do now? I don't have plans.”

Alana shrugged. “Mm. I dunno. What'd you have in mind?”

“.. Going somewhere?”

“.. The mall?”

Connor scrunched up his nose. “No.. Not the mall. I don't feel like spending money.”

Alana nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

“....”

“But, um-” he thought. “We could.. Actually go to the mall without spending money.”

“What's the point, then? We won't get anything.”

“.. Not true. We could-”

“ _ We're not stealing _ .”

Connor scoffed unconvincingly. “Uh- I was  _ not  _ going to say that.. I was thinking.. Dumpster diving..? I know that maybe you might not be into it, but.. There's some great finds?”

Alana instinctively opened her mouth to say no, that it was dangerous, that it was too risky. But.. When mentioned, the idea of doing something dirty like that, something she's never done before- with  _ Connor _ .. She felt a spark go through her veins, a sensation of adrenalin she hardly feels- something that shakes her out of her dull husk of a soul and body, something that makes a day something to be  _ proud of. _

“.. Yeah." She said slowly. "Let's go do that. Right now. I'll get changed.” She stood up tall, marching over to her closet and picking out painting clothes before shutting the doors to change in peace. Connor turned away anyways to be polite.

 

\----

 

“Okay, so,” Connor looked around, parking the car far away from the mall. “Pull up your hood.” He pulled up his. Alana started to get a knot in her stomach.

“Um.. Why?”

“Because this is.. Slightly illegal. Only slightly.”

Alana's stomach knotted double. “Ummmmmmm.. I don't- uh- no. I— we shouldn't..”

Connor groaned. “C’mon, if you don't do it, I'll just leave you in the car, ‘kay?”

Alana thought, feeling a slight buzz in her again. She nodded after the buzz. “Yeah, okay.”

She pulled up her hood aswell, ignoring and both reveling in the slight shock in Connor's face when she agreed so readily. That didn't last long as they made their way to the dumpster. Her heart was pounding, her fingers were twitching, her pace was quickening and it was harder to keep down her mischievous grin. Adrenalin.

Once they got to the sectioned off dumpster, Connor climbed up and quickly looked for cameras. There was only one. He pulled his hood tight and grabbed a rock, throwing it at the camera and breaking the glass. Alana gasped, veins spiking.

“Don't do that, by the way.” He said to her offhandedly. “It's uh- that's bad. But I don't want us caught so.. Let's do this haul quickly.”

Alana nodded, trying to get up with him. 

“Whoa, whoa.” He stopped her, squatting in the trash. “Dude. You don't stick your hands in until you feel with your ass first. And also look with your eyes.”

He started feeling around and pushing aside some small trash bags. “It's better to have glass in your ass than your hand.”

Alana nodded, chuckling a bit at the phrase ‘glass in your ass’. 

Connor gasped almost immediately, handing Alana a brand new makeup palette- one that would cost about $30 in store. She opened it and found it in mint condition, and in her favourite colours too. 

“Wow..”

“I know, right??” Connor looked back at her, beaming. “I fucking love doing this shit. Especially for clothes. Because with, like, makeup it can mold? Unless it's like that one.” 

Alana nodded curiously. “So.. Is this stealing?”

“.. No. They already threw it out. Where else would it go? The dump? That's a waste.”

“....” Alana tilted the palette in the sunshine, seeing the glitter shine. She liked it. She loved it. She felt.. Wrong. This was against the law, definitely. This was extremely against the law and thus morally wrong. She felt her stomach twist again and her fingers tapped against the cover of the makeup. 

But she felt another spark in her veins when Connor handed her more, and more, and more things she loved, wanted, or just didn't mind having. The way he checked over his shoulder, looking no doubt for cops was exhilarating. The idea of running from the police excited her, it terrified her, It made her sick to her stomach but the shocks in her body, reminding her she was actually alive right now, made her keep going. It made her stuff the products in the reusable bag they brought. It made her climb in with him and laugh about the things they'd find. It was fun. It was horrible. But it was  _ fun. _

“.. So, like, what's up?” Connor awkwardly started after a long bout of silence. “Like, how's life?”

Alana shrugged. “Oh, nothing too interesting. .. Though, I have started volunteering at a pet store; I get to hang out with dogs! And, um, I'm in this new club: Theatre for a Cause and it's basically, like, acting for charities? Except, I'm not acting. I'm doing tech behind the scenes. It's a bunch of construction and.. Stuff. Plus writing scripts. I'm not the  _ best _ at it, but I'm getting good!” She gleamed, excitement radiating off of her. 

Connor chuckled fondly and gave her a firm pat on the back. “That's a lot, dude, good job keeping it together.”

Alana's smile dropped slightly. “Um- what's that supposed to mean?”

“Just, that it's impressive? Like, you're doing a good job.”

Alana sighed in relief and smiled back at him. “Thank you. Also, I think we should.. Go. This dumpster smells really bad and- and um.. That's all the products I want.”

Connor whined. “But there's, like, so many more..”

Alana gave him a stern look. He sighed and nodded reluctantly, hopping out from the dumpster. 

“Yeah, you're right, I guess.” He said. “We're totally over felony level.”

Alana paled, starting to get up.

“Felon— OW!” She fell back into the dumpster, cradling her hand: glass piercing the palm. She started to pant, Adrenalin flowing through her veins.  _ Shoot, shoot, shoot.  _ She was  bleeding . 

The blood dripped down her hand slowly, crimson and glittering in the sunshine. It was painful, it was exciting, it was twisting her stomach and making her head spin. Connor had helped her out and she was in the car now, still watching it drip down, down, onto her wrist and down to her forearm— she had an urge to push it deeper.

Suddenly, Connor took hold of her hand, gently plucking out the glass and tossing it out the window. He bit his lip, concerned eyes darting before he took off his shirt, closing his jacket over his bare chest, and wrapped it around her hand to stop the bleeding.

“Hey, Alana?” 

Alana's buzzing mind parted like waves, hearing Connors words.

“.. Yes?”

“.. Are you- I'm sorry. Are you okay?”

“....” Alana looked at her blood, her glittering like gold in the sunshine blood, her blood that meant she was here- but all she saw was Connor's shirt, wrapped around her hand hastily but carefully. It smelled like the rainforest.

“.. I'm fine.”

Connor pulled out the car, starting to haul ass away from the mall and towards home. 

“.. Are you sure? You seem.. Off.”

Alana's hand almost curled, but the pain stopped her. Yet, it intrigued her.

Connor knew that look.

“I'm fine, Connor.” She said, not looking at him. “Don't worry. Just- a bit anxious after doing that.”

“.... Okay. Um- give me a second. We gotta get away from here and lose the cameras trail before we head home so.. Sit tight.”

He turned on the radio, letting Alana pick whatever songs she wanted. All she did was change it to station 58: Alt Rock.

They drove for a while, going into tunnels and Connor coming around to take off the license plate cover before coming back out after a similar looking car. Alana only stared out the window, feeling her veins get thick like molasses. She couldn't feel anything right now: she didn't know if she was living or past that. Maybe she passed it up, the opportunity to live. Too busy with school work, too busy with extracurriculars and college and volunteering.

_ Stand up, walk out, and leave.  _

 

\----

 

When Connor finally found in an empty parking spot, he immediately rushed to Alana's side, unwrapping the shirt and examining the browning wound.

The blood was no longer red and glistening but old and dull, empty, void, paralyzed. 

Alana felt the same.

“Alana?? Are you okay? Was this- was this too much? I- um- we'll- I'll get you home and we can.. Bandage you up?"

Alana bit her quivering lip. No, not now.. She didn't need this right now..

“.. Hello?? Alana, dude.” Connor tapped her. “Stop just.. Staring like that. It's fucking weird.”

Alana hiccupped, feeling her stomach drop from it's excited and guilty knots. Her shoulders shook and she felt her face go hot. This was so embarrassing..

“.. Hey, hey..” Connor whined, gently coaxing Alana to the more open back of the car and letting her sit down. She wasn't crying yet, but he knew she was going to.

“.. Alana..” He frowned, putting a hand on Alana's back gently, as if touching her too roughly would shatter her. He delicately ran his hand up and down her back in soothing motions, scooting closer and trying to read her face. She shook, wrapping her arms around herself and tried to hold in the tears as Connor talked to her using a voice she had never heard out of him: one that was concerned and sweet, coated in a warm honey that still had that distinct weird somewhat helpless Connor vibe to it.

“‘Lana, um.. I know you don't.. Like breaking the law. And that's okay, really, it is. Just, um.. Why didn't you tell me you didn't want to do this sooner..?”

“I did wanna do it..” She mumbled.

“Oh.” He bit his lip. “Well, um, why are you.. Crying? Or about to? What's wrong..?”

“.. I don't know. I'm, like, on my period right now and everything's.. Too much.”

“Oh.. Well, can I try something? Real quick?”

Alana nodded vacantly, heart skipping a beat when she was pulled into a hug, face to chest and long, bony, fingers on her head. She tensed at first, but after Connor explained that he was just hoping to make her feel better; she relaxed. She relaxed a bit too much, actually, and started crying into his jacket. 

Although Connor was awkwardly proportioned, gangly limbs, no idea where to put those limbs, and had bones that would dig into her face: she didn't notice any of it. He seemed soft in this moment, a comforting, warm, presence that smelled like the wet calm of the rainforest with a hint of Boy Deodorant. She melted into his chest and put her arms around his waist, glancing up at him.

He looked worried, face pinched with eyes that mollified her. He was giving her gentle pats on the back and head with intermittent soothing rubs. He didn't know what he was doing, clearly, but that just made it more genuine.

“.. Hey.” He said timidly. “This isn't.. Because of me, is it?”

Alana shook her head. She had no idea.

Connor smiled tightly. “Really? Um- okay. Why is it- what's the cause?”

“.. Anxiety.”

“Well, yeah, but.. Why? Is it because you're afraid of being caught..?”

“No, no, I'm..” She sighed sorely. “You probably wouldn't believe I'm fine now, would you?”

Connor shook his head, taking her hand.

Alana smiled weakly at the gesture.

“Yeah. Well, I um.. I'm fine  _ but  _ this week has been stressful..”

“.. Am- did I cause the stress?”

“No, I'm.. Always this way.” She laughed pathetically.

Connor whined as if he had actually been hurt by that, holding onto her just slightly tighter.

“That's not.. Good.. What's causing all this?”

“....”

_ Stand up, walk out, and leave. _  
  


“.. School. Everything. I just want everything to be done with.”

Connor paled, adjusting so she was on him now for maximum comfort. “Uh.. What does ‘everything’ mean?”

“.. Everything. This entire life I'm leading..”

“Okay, don't- don't  _ kill yourself _ , like, Jesus Christ —”

Alana snapped to attention. “I'm not gonna kill myself! Jesus— I just want a different life, oh my god!”

Connor let out an immense sigh of relief, leaning into the car wall and resting a hand on his heart. “Thank god, I got really scared. Um. Well, that's good. That you're not gonna kill yourself, I mean.” He said awkwardly.

Alana nodded shortly. “Mhmm. I'm  just- really tired.”

Connor nodded back. “Yeah.. I know how it feels. It's really.. Weird.”

“Weird. Yeah.” She said.

“.. Hey, Connor? Can I ask you about something?”

“Sure.”

“When you said I was.. Weird and creepy and..” She took a shaky breath. “That you hated me? Is that all still true?”

“Uh.. N-no..” Connor said quietly, hands stopping for a moment. “They never.. Were. I- you're really nice. And I.. Like hanging out with you-”

“Don't lie to me.”

“What?” Connor says, bewildered.

“Don't lie to  _ me, Connor.” _ She grips his jacket, pinching her eyes tightly to keep the tears from flowing. “If you hate me, just say it. I don't have time for this bull crap.”

“.. But I don't hate you. I like you.”

“How am I supposed to know that!?” She threw Connors arms off of her, leaving him to stare up at her as she stood.

“You kick me, you yell at me, you tell me you hate me, you make me feel like an idiot, you're cooler than me, you're amazing, you're- you make me feel so—” she kicked the car wall harshly. “Frustrated! I have no idea what's  _ going on _ anymore- I was just supposed to provide some stupid help for you that you won't take because you're such a  _ dumbass _ — excuse my swearing— and you still smoke pot and you're still better than me in some weird,  _ weird,  _ way and- and.. I don't understand what's wrong with you!”

She stands there, tears mostly gone at this point. Her nails feel like they're gonna reopen the wound.

Connor is just sitting there, backed into a corner. He's scanning Alana, shoulders hunched disconcertingly.

“..... Um.. I'm sorry?” He finally says, trying to get up but just bumping his head against the ceiling. “Ow- uh- okay, um.. Do you.. Need to talk?”

“I just did!”

“.. Oh.” He presses his lips thin and gently coaxes Alana back to down to sit with him before taking it all in and scraping a hand through his hair.

“.. So.. Um- okay, I'm gonna- I don't know how to.. Respond to that but I'll try?”

Alana waits for an answer.

“.. Okay, cool. Um.. So.. Uh- I'm not- I'm not  _ better  _ or  _ cooler  _ than you: I'm literally the biggest loser ever and.. You're so smart and talented? Like, really sm—”

“I know.”

“.. Oh. Uh-”

“You're not better than me. You're far, far, worse. But.. I wanna be bad, too.”

“.. Dude, doing illegal shit doesn't make you ‘cool’..”

“.. I know. But it- I respect you more for doing it.”

“.. What??”

“Nothing- never mind.” She sighed. “It'll only make sense to me.”

Alana put her hands over her eyes, pressing her palms into the sockets. She had no idea how to explain her ranking system. Cool people and smart people were at the top, and people with no friends and who were sad were at the bottom. She was.. Somewhere in between- smart but no friends. Connor was, up until this morning, dumb and no friends: putting him lower than her. But now, he was cool, somewhat smart, and no friends; which placed him above her in the ranking.

Alana had been sinking lower and lower recently: crying in front of Connor, getting a bad grade, not knowing as much as he knew, getting farther from Zoe because she was sad right now, everything was just making her feel worse and worse. One day, she'd probably be in the bottom. Of course, she's trying to climb up. She needs to- she needs to at least be better than Connor. Equal with the popular kids: that was her goal. She needed to have friends and be cool- do dumpster dives and hang out with the school freak and maybe break a law once but also needed to be an upstanding citizen: no drugs, no alcohol, no rule breaking. Oh, and don't forget being smart. But she already had that covered.

It was a lot of pressure, honestly, but she couldn't avoid it. This was just the way it was: the ‘better’ you are the more envied you are by Alana Beck: the girl with no self esteem and yet has an extremely egotistical outlook on life. 

“.. Well.” Connor said, moving slightly closer to Alana. “Um.. Is there something wrong I did specifically..? Like, other than saying I hate you and stuff— which isn't true by the way— is there anything?”

“.. If it's not true, why'd you say it?”

“.. Because.. I.. Um.. Wasn't used to feeling that way..? And uh-” he shook his head. “Sorry, I don't.. Think about that stuff a lot. I'm trying to like, use therapy words? I've been, like, going to therapy recently.”

“You have?” She looked up. Connor just got knocked down a peg- going to therapy, only  _ really  _ sad people needed that. “That's great, Connor!”

“Yeah, I guess.. But we're talking about you- this isn't about me. What's wrong? Like, why are you crying? Other than..” He recounted Alana's rant, furrowing his brows. “.. I'm sorry about the hitting and about the lies but- why'd you call me a dumbass? What's wrong with me’?”

“This isn't about you.”

“.. Oh, damn, yeah.” He clicked his tongue, confused. “.. If it's not about me, what's it about? Like, can I help?”

“.. No.”

“.. Alana, c’mon, lemme fix this —”

“I don't need to be  _ fixed.  _ I'm  _ fine.” _

“I didn't say I was gonna fix  _ you—  _ that'd be weird — I said I was gonna fix your problem.”

“.. Oh.”

…

“So? What's the problem?”

“Nothing.”

Connor sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Alright, then. You just want a hug?”

“.. Yeah.”

Connor opened his arms for her, letting her get comfortable on him and put her head on his chest. He shut his eyes, leaning against the wall and waiting until Alana was ready to get up. He could feel her emotions radiate into him: he always hated having that. Empathy. But, y'know, it was alright. Because maybe.. because he's getting all the feelings- she won't feel them as much. Like a transfer. He'd be alright with feeling crummy if it meant she was okay.

They rest there for a long time, Alana falling asleep after a couple minutes. Connor smiled, texting his parents a signal that he was okay so their calls wouldn't wake them beforehand.

He set down the phone and watched her for a bit, noticing how stressed she was: even in sleep. He wanted to fix that. She didn't deserve all this stress, especially if he was the reason. He rested a hand on her back and used the other one to hold her hand. He shut his eyes and let himself drift to sleep. It was the most he could do right now.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave me a comment! tell me your fave things, ask questions, anything! I love them and you can post as many as you want.


	16. Dumpster Diving Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana is underwater, Zoe is worried, Connor's a dork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone.. so im sick af rn so uhh if next week you dont see an update thats why. i just dont have the energy to write rn so yeah? hope u enjoy this one tho!
> 
> tw: teenage pregnancy mention, blood ment, allusions to abuse, smoking,
> 
> also! another reminder that Connor and Alana are just friends and will never be romantically involved. i feel i should put that in here due to the last segment

They wake up half an hour later, Alana being awake first. She rubs at her eyes and sighs. The world feels fuzzy, out of line. She squints at the blurred edges of Connor’s face and at herself and cleans her glasses, shifting off of him.

Connor stirs, yawning like a cat, his whole face scrunching. He sticks his tongue out lazily afterwards, laying down and looking up at Alana as she scrolls on her phone for something to do, for a reason why she’s here. She doesn’t find anything.

“.. Are you okay now?” Connor asks from the floor, laying his hand out for her. She takes it and shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

“.. Okay.”

Alana scrunches her eyes together, tired. Nothing felt right. It felt like she was underwater almost. Not in a weird ‘drowning’ way, but more of just.. Floating there. Everything was muffled and somewhat displaced, lines were blurred and there wasn’t much gravity. She could breathe fine, but this dull relaxation was pressing against her chest, like a wave splashing up against a shore.

“.. I wanna go home.”

Connor sighs and sits up, patting her on the back and nodding silently before climbing into the driver’s seat.

“.. Hey, Alana?” He says after starting up the car. “Can you go to the back and remove the license plate cover? And, if you wanna stay back there, can you clean off some of the stuff? Most of it’s yours, anyway.”

“.. It’s not mine.”

“I don’t really want makeup, so, yeah, it’s yours. We got it together and I don’t want it so..”

“....”

“.. But I’ll um- I do want all the nail polish, though.” He smiled nervously.

Alana looked over to their bags, slowly taking some stuff out and looking over it.

“.. Alana? The license plate?”

“.. Right, sorry.” She shakes her head, getting the water out of her ears and going to the back of the car. She crouches and rips off the duct tape holding up the small cardboard cover. She takes the cover back inside with her and sits down in the back, going back to organizing what she wanted and what she didn’t want. It didn’t really matter, anyways; they were all stolen so it’s not like she was disappointed with what they had. She got her money's worth.

She chuckled at her own thought, bracing herself against the wall as the car bumped on the road. She realized she wasn’t buckled in- or even in a seat. Feeling some sparks, she looked over to the empty passengers seat and began to climb up to get in.

..

But, how would she organize if she was up there? Did it really matter where she was seated? What were the actual chances of getting into a crash?

And did she mind if she did get into one?

..

Sitting back down, Alana set aside the nail polish she had collected so far into an empty target bag. She sorted things into bags: things she wanted, things she didn’t want, and nail polish. Most of the things she wanted were small nude palettes, lipstick and clothing. She didn’t want the outrageous, glitz and glam palettes or jewelry.

It was weird: sitting in a car with no seatbelt on. Just.. being in the back. She felt bad: both in the moral and emotional sense.

“Hey, Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we turn on the radio?”

“.. Um, it is on.”

Alana turned around, looking at the radio. Alternative Rock.

“.. What’s the volume?”

“Five.” He turned the dial. “Now it’s eight.”

Alana listened to the song for a couple seconds before scowling. “Mm. Can I change it, please?”

Connor shrugged, gesturing towards the radio. “Go ahead.”

She crawled up, looking back at her organized piles, and decided she was done with that now. She buckled herself into the seat and started going through different channels. 80’s, 70’s, Pop Hits, R&B, etc. She finally settled on “The Heat”, which was playing The Weeknd. She usually didn’t like rap but The Weeknd had some nice, slow, vibes, which were really connecting with her right now. Connor seemed to enjoy it too, humming it quietly and bobbing his head just a bit. Alana sat back and looked out to the road, turning up the volume to ten and waiting for them to get home.

When Connor pulled into her driveway, everything caught up to speed. She was thrust out of the time-slowing, edge-blurring, water and her eyes opened wide, feeling a small stirring in her chest as the music was turned off.

“So.. um- this was nice.” Connor awkwardly stated, turning to look at Alana. She blinked and nodded quickly, unbuckling herself and crawling into the back. She gathered up her bags, bringing them to the front before stalling.

“.. Hey, how am I gonna explain all this stuff?”

“Say you bought it.”

“I don’t have a receipt..”

“Just pretend you lost it. Or you threw it out; it’s best to say you threw it out but if you’re going to say you lost it remain calm for the most part, just _slightly_ disappointed and um.. Say that you don’t know what happened to it. A bad liar has an excuse for everything but an honest person doesn’t. But since you’re a liar pretending to be honest, just say you don’t know but also have a backup excuse just in case.”

“So.. just say I threw it out?” She said boredly, picking up her stuff.

Connor huffed. “Yeah, alright. Sure.”

Alana nodded, putting the bag’s handles around her arm and going to shut the door.

“Wait-” Connor stopped her, unbuckling himself and crawling to the passengers seat. “I uh- I wanna.. Uh..”

“Wanna what? I have homework to do.” She deadpanned, sifting the plastic between her fingers.

Connor bit his lip, recoiling for just a moment before he growled.

“I was gonna _say.._ That you’re a good friend and shit and that.. We should do this more. And I was also gonna ask if you were _okay._ ” He crossed his arms, glaring at Alana.

Alana took a moment and sighed. “I.. I’m fine. And thank you.”

She went to shut the door again, but Connor propped it open with his foot.

“.. Are you seriously okay, though?”

“Yes, I’m fine, Connor.” She rolled her eyes, lips pressed thin. Connor narrowed his, determined.

“.. You just seemed off today, is all.”

“Well i’ve never inadvertently shoplifted before so-”

“It’s not shoplifting.”

“Do you even care if it is?”

“No, but you do, so.”

Alana groaned. “Connor, I said I’m _fine._ Now go home and paint your nails with all your stolen nail polish, okay? I think dark green would be best.”

“.. Why?”

“.. No reason. Just- it would look nicer than chipped black?”

Connor glanced at his nails. “Yeah, I guess.”

…

“So..” Alana adjusted the bags on her arm. “Can I go or do you have something else to say?”

Connor pressed his lips together, scratching the back of his neck and stretching tensely. “Um.. just that I hope everything's okay and.. Goodbye.”

“.. Connor, I already told you I wasn’t gonna kill myself.”

Connor sneered. “I knew that. I mean- I know you’re not gonna _kill_ yourself but you looked really fucking weirdly at that blood when it came outta your hand, and you just cried on me and fell asleep, and then you just fucking sat in silence in the back of my car with no seatbelt on just staring at things for a weirdly long time. All i’m saying is that, like,-”

He sighed.

“.. I dunno.” He deflated, moving his foot out of the doors way. “Sorry. Just, be careful and shit, okay? It’s weird.”

She felt that water feeling again; everything was somewhat blurred and slowed down, and Connor’s words waved in the water, creating small white circles over her face as intermittent rays shone through.

“.. Okay.” She spoke, the words muffled. Connor’s eyebrows twitched together and his nose scrunched a bit. He was obviously somewhat annoyed, but had sad eyes as she gently shut the car door. She graced him a small, forced, smile and walked. The bags were cutting into her arm, making small red lines in them. It felt weird.

Her converse tacked against the driveway, moving her up to her front door. She fished her keys out of her pocket, putting it in the slot. It got stuck as she turned it, making the metallic thump-click but not moving. She looked behind herself instinctively and then double-taked, seeing Connor’s car still in the driveway. She brushed it off, knowing he was just checking to make sure she got inside like a good friend. The key clicked again once she leaned into it, allowing the door to open. She turned the knob and sighed, knowing once she opened the door Connor would leave. It would just be her again, just her in her small house. Dad was at work and all the company she had was Professor PuddinPop and she was getting old, so she wasn’t as playful anymore.

**_HONK_ **

Alana screamed, glancing behind her to a snickering Connor. He covered his mouth and took a few deep breaths before leaning out the car window.

“Hey, are you okay?? Is the key working?”

Alana bit her lip.

“....”

She turned around and locked the door, yanking on the knob a few times for good measure before going to Connor’s window.

“I don’t wanna go home yet.”

Connor perked up, tilting his head. “You don’t?”

“No. There’s nobody in there and I don't..” She firmed her jaw, searching for the words. “.. It’s so empty in there. Not in a sad way, but it’s just.. Quiet. I don’t like it.”

Connor smiled knowingly and nodded, getting out of the car. Alana stood back.

“What are you doing?”

“Going inside with you?”

“No, I don’t want to be here.”

“.. I know. But those aren’t very safe in the car.” He pointed at her bags. She looked down and nodded quietly.

They went to the door, Connor pressing the lock button unimportantly on his keys before heading inside. Alana went up to her room, putting the items in her closet. She came back down and found Connor petting Professor PuddinPop, cooing to her and attempting to give her a kiss on the nose. Alana resurfaced and smiled, giggling a bit.

“Connor.” She called fondly. Connor looked up, retracting his face from her cat. “Uh, yeah?”

“We have to go- wait.”

She went to the pantry and got out some cat food, refilling Professor PuddinPop’s bowl and water dish before giving her a couple pets and standing up again.

“Okay, now we can go.”

Connor hummed, holding Professor PuddinPop in his arms and giving her a quick smooch on the forehead before setting her down and wiping off his lips. Alana laughed, not sure why; there was nothing particularly funny about Connor giving her cat a kiss but.. The simplicity of their interactions brought a small joy to her. Connor laughed a bit, too, blushing. Alana held his hand as they went out to the car, getting in the passenger's seat and buckling herself in.

Connor put on the radio, Ed Sheeran playing.

They both reached to change it in unison, stopping just short because of the other. They laughed and Alana sat back, letting Connor change it around a bit before giving up and just letting it be silent as they headed down the street.

“.. So, where to?” Alana asked, feeling slightly dissociated now. But she was familiar to the feeling, letting it happen.

“My house. I need to drop off the nail polish, too.”

Alana nodded.

Connor drove up to his house, grimacing slightly at the looming two story before grabbing his nail polish and heading in. She waited, admiring the house.

In about two minutes, she got a text.

[Connor (frog emoji)]: ‘hey i'm sorry to ask this but can you answer something for me?’

[Febreeze (Alana)]: ‘Sure, what is it?’

‘Have i hurt you?’

Alana felt her chest flood.

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Shit dude i was hoping ud say no. ummmm when?’

‘.. You should know when.’

‘Right, yeah, when I said I hated you but I didn’t mean that, okay? I'm sorry.’

‘Why are you asking me this?’

‘Because Zoe is mad at me and thinks i'll hurt you. She wont stop fucking buging me abhgkd’

‘About it*. Sorry zoe grabbed my phone’

‘Do I need to come inside?’

‘No, you don't have to.’

Alana looked up at the house and got out of the car, slamming the door and heading inside. Thankfully, they hadn’t locked the door.

Inside Zoe and Connor were arguing, Zoe looked pained and Connor just looked angry. The polish was set on the table. Both were too caught up in themselves to notice Alana walk right into the kitchen.

“Guys?” She said. Zoe recoiled like she was shot and Connor just looked over, smiling weirdly. “Oh, thank god.” He said, moving over to Alana’s side. “Alana, can you please get Zoe off my back?”

Zoe was hunched behind the island, hands firmly on the table. Alana felt her chest go tight before she could say anything: Zoe was shaking, taking uneven, often quick breaths as she stared down Connor.

“.. Actually, Connor, I uh- can you leave?” Alana asked.

Connor snapped his gaze to her. “What?”

“No offense, but I need you to leave us for a second.”

“... Why?” He narrowed his eyes. Zoe stood upright.

Alana’s eyes flickered between him and Zoe.

“.. I think you’re scaring her, and considering what I know about you guys’ relationship, I think it would be best if you left.”

Connor growled, grabbing his bag from the table. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll go upstairs.”

Alana waited until she heard a door shut to turn to Zoe, coaxing her closer and sitting down with her on the floor. Usually she’d hate doing that but she had already been in a dumpster today, so, whatever.

“.. Are you okay?” Alana started off asking, examining Zoe’s body language. Zoe nodded too quickly, hands shaking and shoulders tight with tension.

“Yeah, are you, though? Why is your hand bloody?” Zoe asked, redirecting the topic.

Alana looked at her hand and Connor’s shirt wrapped around it, the blood having seeped into the cloth.

“I.. cut myself on some glass and Connor wrapped it up for me, it’s nothing. Why are _you_ shaking, through?”

Zoe shrugged tensely, only giving Alana a silent look. Alana seemed to understand and sighed.

“Can I touch you?”

Zoe nodded. Alana put a hand on her shoulder and scooted closer, accepting the small hug Zoe gave her. She noted that they were at that level now. Or maybe they always were.

“Zoe,” She said. “I really like Connor. I know what he did to you and I think that was a horrible, _horrible_ , thing. And if he does it again I will.. I’ll give him a very strong speech and a couple of hits but.. he hasn’t hurt me physically, he makes me.. Happy and he’s my friend. I’m not gonna stay away from him. I know my limits, okay?”

Zoe pinched her eyebrows together, moving to place her hand on Alana’s cheek but deciding to go and put it on her shoulder at the last second. “Alana, what do you mean by hasn’t hurt you _physically?_ Has he hurt you mentally? Because that’s just as important.”

Alana frowned. “Yeah, yeah, he has. But.. he’s a troubled person. Most of that was when we were first talking and he didn’t know what.. To do when I showed I cared for him.”

“Bull _shit”_ Zoe sneered. “He’s not fucking troubled, Alana. He’s an abusive shit who has hurt you, hurt me, hurt my parents- he’s a fucking parasite. I mean, I can tell just by _looking_ at you that he did something horrible today. Just because he has depression and whatever else doesn’t excuse him from being a total _asshole._ ”

Alana stared at her for a moment, feeling her palms getting sweaty. “Um.”

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong.” Zoe choked. “You _know_ he’s an asshole.”

“... He has depressio--”

“That doesn’t matter! I have shit too! But I’m not an asshole about it! I actually fucking _deal_ with my problems instead of taking it out on other people!”

“ _Zoe.”_ Alana whined. “I understand-” 

“No, you don’t.” She stood up, fists clenched. Alana stood up with her and hugged her close. Zoe pushed her away.

“I just wanna see you happy.” She said. “I just.. I can see the redness in your eyes from crying.”

Alana rubbed at her eye, scoffing embarrassedly. “That wasn’t because of him. It was because of-- of other things. I’m fine.”

“Was it?” Zoe stepped closer. “Fucking _was it?_ What were those reasons, then, huh? What were they?”

Alana backed away from her, swallowing. “It was nothing, I’m fine.”

“What was it, ‘Lana?” Zoe begged, taking hold of Alana’s sweaty hands. “Tell me, please. I promise I won’t let him hurt you.”

Alana bit her lip. “... It-”

“HEY, ALANA?”

Zoe and Alana both jumped, looking towards the stairs.

“.. Y-YES?” Alana shouted back.

“CAN YOU TEXT ME WHEN YOU’RE DONE? I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO KEEP PEEKING TO SEE IF YOU’RE DONE.”

Zoe snarled. “DON’T FUCKING SPY ON US, CONNOR, WHAT THE HELL?!”

“I DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING COHERENT, ANYWAYS, ASSHOLE. BYE.”

They waited until they heard a door shut to continue.

“.. So.” Zoe sighed, letting go of Alana’s hands. “You’re really not gonna.. Avoid him? Even if you know that he- um- well, y’know..”

“No.” Alana nodded. “I’m not. If he tries anything, I can handle it. It’s okay.”

“But how will you know if he tries anything?” Zoe asked. “Like, mentally? People like him are full of mind tricks.”

“.. He’s done it before but if he does it now.. I think we’re close enough to where I can tell him to politely stop without him ditching me.”

“.. What does it matter if he ditches you?”

“.. I don’t want him to leave me..”

“But you said you’d handle him. If he actually did punch you, like, right across the face and you beat him up, he’d leave.”

Alana swallowed again. “.. Yeah.”

“.. So, are you doing to tell him off when he does something bad or will you remain friends with him?”

“.. I- I don’t-- let’s hope it doesn’t come to that--”

“But if it _does?”_

Alana shook her head, as if trying to wipe the idea from her brain. “I don’t- I don’t know. I need more time to think on it..”

“.. Alana, I just.. Don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Alana looked up at Zoe, silent for a few moments.

“.. Thank you. I can handle myself, though. I.. I’ll check up on you later; maybe we can hang out..?”

Zoe nodded, smiling unsurely. “That’d be nice.. I need someone to just- get this all out with.”

Alana smiled back wearily. It’s not that she didn’t want to help Zoe with her problems, but thinking about this too much was making her confused. On one hand, Zoe was right. Connor was.. Bad. But on the other, Connor makes her happy. She rubbed one of her temples, deciding to just get out of the situation and think about it on the way to their next location. Standing in silence thinking seemed awkward.

“CONNOR! WE’RE DONE!” Alana yelled up the stairs.

Zoe didn’t flinch this time, just getting slightly closer to Alana. She looked like she wanted to say something, but held back. Alana didn’t get the chance to comment before she saw Connor walking in.

“Hey.” Connor greeted, making Zoe instantly move away from Alana. Alana frowned.

Connor gave them a weird look before shrugging and walking with Alana to the door. Alana gave Zoe a glance as she left. Zoe looked pensive, scratching the nearest surface: a tick of hers. Alana let Connor go out the door first before turning to Zoe and making a k-pop heart with her hand, giving a reassuring smile, and then a thumbs up. That seemed to make Zoe feel a little better as she mimicked Alana, adding on a ‘call me’ sign then another thumbs up wearily. Alana could tell she was still shaken but just nodded and left, hoping Zoe was okay. She might need to talk to Connor about all this later..

They climbed into the car, the atmosphere tighter now than before. Alana tried her best to dissolve it, putting on some nice music and smiling at Connor.

Connor didn’t notice her, just staring straight ahead dead-eyed at the house.

Alana tapped him on the shoulder, making him look over and see her smile. He smiled back, small but genuine and pulled out.

“.. So, where are we heading?”

Alana shrugged. “I’m not sure. Arcade..?”

“Nah.”

“.. Forest?”

“Nah.”

“.. Mall?”

“We can’t go back there for at least a month after what we did.”

Alana winced. “Yikes.”

Connor nodded. “Yeah.”

“.. So, where else is there?”

“I dunno. I wanna just hang out with you; I don’t care about the place.”

Alana smiled fondly and thought.

“.. Well, it’ll waste gas but we could just hang out in here?”

Connor grinned. “Great idea. I mean, it’s pretty chilly out so if we leave the windows open, we’ll be okay. Where do I park, though?”

“.. Anywhere.” She shrugged. “Cars don’t get towed until two days have gone by, unless they’re in private property or places that have a clear sign that says you will be towed.”

“Awesome. I’m gonna-” He gasped. “Wait! I have the perfect place.” He shifted into drive and started heading east, eyes sparkling. Alana made sure her seatbelt was on before turning up the volume on the radio, selecting Alt Rock and letting Nirvana fill the car.

They drove to a small cliff- Buddy’s Cliff- and parked there with the van facing the edge. Connor bit his lip and looked over at Alana. “I really.. Like this place. So.” He said, turning off the car and rolling down the windows before climbing into the back. Alana followed suit and sat down with him. He laid down. She laid down next to him, head thumping against something.

“Ow.” She sat up, unfolding a small wrinkle in the blanket and finding one of the palettes they found- well, stole. It was many nice shades of cool colours, sky blues and deep greens that had fell out of the bag in the car full of stuff she didn’t want. Pretty, but not Alana’s taste. Connor watched as she examined the eyeshadows, mouth quirking.

“.. Hey, Connor. What do I do if I don’t want something? Like, I don’t want this.”

“Oh. Um.” He shrugged. “Sell it online as new and make a quick buck?”

Alana sneered. “That’s.. Really gross. This could be infected, I don’t want to.. Sell it and _scam_ someone.”

Connor clicked his tongue, scratching his nose idly. “I could.. Give it to Zoe? She might like it. Also, it’s not fucking infected. I know what infected makeup looks like.”

Alana thought for a moment then nodded, handing him the palette. Zoe would like it and, well, Alana kind of felt bad for her. If someone couldn’t feel good on the inside, maybe they could at least take comfort in painting pretty colours on their face so that they at least look like they’re okay. He opened it and oohed at the colours, looking at each and every one. He had a small melancholy smile on his face as he shut the palette, setting it aside. “It’s really pretty.”

“It is.” Alana chuckled. “I like um.. ‘The Enchantress’.”

Connor quirked a brow. “Really? I think it’s kind of.. Bold. I mean, bolds good but you’d need a big outfit for it, especially if it was all over the eye and not an accent. I like ‘Shante’. It’s a nice blue.”

Alana cocked her head. “You’re into makeup too?”

“Huh?” Connor looked up.

Alana flushed. “Um- I just meant that you’re into fashion, right? And that was a lot that you just said so I assumed you were into makeup, too? Which is totally fine.”

Connor shrugged tensely. “Um. On- yeah. Maybe. It’s.. pretty. Like, art on the face. It can make people look so cool and the history behind it’s really nice and.. Yeah.”

“.. Have you ever worn makeup?”

Connor shook his head. “No. No, absolutely not. Fuck no. I’m not like that.”

Alana furrowed her brows. “Like what?”

“.. Dunno. I’m not gonna wear makeup.”

“There’s nothing wrong with guys wearing makeup, y’know.” She said softly.

“I know.” He huffed. “It’s just.. Not for me.”

Alana hummed and laid down. “Okay. So what do you wanna do?”

Connor shrugged. “I dunno. Um.. I dunno. We could.. Play a game? Ugh, nevermind, that sounded lame.”

“No, no, I like games!” She encouraged. “What game did you have in mind?”

“I dunno. The only game I can think of is.. Either I Spy or Truth or Dare.”

“Truth or Dare.”

“Oh.” He raised his brows. “Okay. That was an easy decision, I guess. You go first.”

“Sorry, I’ve just never played truth or dare before with a friend. Also I Spy is boring.” She shrugged lopsidedly. “Sorry. Okay, um.. Truth or dare?”

“.. Truth.”

Alana thought, shutting her eyes. “....”

“What..” She started. “Is the.. Most embarrassing moment in your life?”

Connor put his hands over his face. “Oh my god. Noooooo.”

Alana frowned. “We don’t have to-”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m being dramatic.” He laughed. “Um.. well, my entire existence is embarrassing but one time in elementary school- I think like fifth grade- some kid stuck some gum in my hair and I panicked and tried to cut it out, but then I had a bald spot so I freaked out even more and shaved basically my whole ass head--”

“Oh my god.” Alana snickered. Connor playfully hit her arm. “Shut up. Let me finish.”

Alana nodded, shutting up quickly.

Connor pressed his lips. “I meant shut up as a playful thing, dude. You’ll know when I’m actually angry. I was just.. Whatever. You can keep teasing me ‘n shit.”

Alana tilted her head but nodded.

“Okay, so.” He continued. “I ended up with basically my whole ass head shaved and had to go to school wearing a beanie to cover it up. But, like, they don’t allow hats in school for some fucking reason so I was told to take it off. I said no and the teacher just- _yanked_ it off my head. The whole fucking class laughed and I was, like, dying inside because now I could feel the A/C on my bald ass head and it was gross.”

Alana tried her best to contain her laughter, but a few small giggles escaped before Connor gave her a knowing and embarrassed smile, letting her laugh out loud. He laughed too.

“Okay, okay.” He said after the laughter had calmed down. “Um.. truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Ooh!” Connor exclaimed, grinning. “Damn, okay.. Okay..” He looked around and then peered out the windows. “.... There’s a squirrel outside. Catch it.”

Alana shook her head quickly. “No, No, I’m not.. Doing that. Nothing that involves potential harm to me.”

Connor huffed and rolled his eyes. “Damn. Thought you were cool. Okay, so.. Um.. how about..”

Alana let him think for a while, trying to ignore the pit she got when he said that comment about how she wasn’t cool. Of course, he was joking. Well, probably joking. Alana couldn’t really tell the difference between sarcasm or not sarcasm.

Eventually, Connor was taking too long and Alana pulled out her phone, looking up ‘dares for truth and dare’ and giving Connor a list she found online. He lit up and started reading them before coming across a couple he liked.

“Okay, okay, I got a couple. Take your socks off with your teeth-”

“No.”

“Why not!?” He groaned.

“I’m wearing a _skirt_.”

“And what? You don’t got fucking panties on?”

“I do. But.. only panties.”

Connor grimaced and blushed. “Dude.. okay. No, then. Um.. lick a car tire..?”  
“That could damage me.”

“Fine. Fucking..” He scrolled a bit. “Go outside and howl like a dog for 30 seconds.”

Alana’s face heated up and she scoffed. “Um-”

“It won’t harm you!” Connor was quick to defend, already opening the car door. “Go and howl. Do it.”

Alana took a moment before shrugging tensely, forcing herself out of the car (and behind it, she didn’t want anyone to see who was making that noise) and crouched down, cupping her hands around her mouth before letting out a small, quiet, barely-30-second, howl. Connor watched with growing disappointment and stepped out.

“Dude, you’re such a pussy.”

“Don’t- you can’t say that, it’s sexist.”

Connor groaned loudly. “Fine. You’re a little bitch. Coward? Whatever. Do the dare.”

“I- don’t feel comfortable.”

“....” Connor sighed. “What if I did it with you? Just this one time? After that, you gotta do the dares.”

Alana sighed and begrudgingly nodded. She was sure Connor would also chicken out so she didn’t have anything to worry about.

Connor got by her side, yanked her to her feet and looked to the sky, smirking for a second. His face was red, too.

“Okay. On three, then we howl for 30 seconds.”

“.. Okay.”

Connor frowned, looking over for a second. “.. Is- are you actually not cool with this or..?”

“No! No! This is- I should be having fun like this.” She nodded quickly, standing up straighter. Connor seemed to relax.

“Okay. Yeah. Stupid fun that we’ll regret later is the best fun. Ready?”

“.. Sure.”

“.. Three, two..”

He took a deep breath. Wow, he looked like he was going to actually do it. In front of- .. well, nobody, Alana guesses. It just _felt_ like so many eyes were on them.

“One!”

He cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a powerful howl, punctuated with laughter every couple seconds. Alana joined in, her's much quieter and more human. Connor sounded like a professional; If there was such a thing as a professional wolf howler.

After the 30 seconds were up, they burst out laughing, faces red and hearts racing although there was nobody around. They climbed back into the car and let the giggle fit happen before Connor let out a final, cute, snort and laid down with Alana finishing up her wheezing laughter. They looked at eachother and let out one last chuckle at themselves before a collective sigh filled the car.

“.. So, truth or dare?”

“Dare! Why not.”

Alana reached for her phone and scrolled through the dares, finding a couple she liked and a couple that just made her think ‘yikes’. Like, who would make their friend ‘colour one of their front teeth black with sharpie'? That’s gross. She did find an unusual one, one she was curious about and that was definitely possible in the car.

“Let the person to your left do your makeup.”

Connor paled, glancing over to the palette and clearing his throat. “Um. No.”

Alana huffed. “Really? I have to howl like a dog and you won’t even let me put a bit of eyeshadow on you?”

Connor shook his head and bit his lip. “No. I don’t want that stuff on me.”

“But you said you liked it?”

“I do. But, like.. People..”

“We are the only people in this car.”

“..I’ll let you do it if I get to hold onto your phone the whole time I have it on.”

Alana tilted her head, confused, but gave him her phone. He pocketed it, handing her the palette.

Alana opened up the palette and looked at Connor’s face, deciding what to use.

“.. What kind of look do you want?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, if we’re doing this, I would want you to at least like how you look.”

“....” Connor sighed. “I don’t care. Just don’t make it like.. Pink or something weird. I wanna look.. Good.”

“Do you want something dark or light?”

“Light.”

“Gotcha.”

She started applying the makeup, having to tilt Connor’s head up repeatedly. She could tell he was uncomfortable- but maybe that was like with the bright colours situation at Forever 21; maybe he just needed a small push to get out there. Plus, he had the face for it. And she _really_ wanted to fill in the eyebrows.

 

\----

 

“Okay, you ready?”

Connor took a moment to respond, swallowing. “Maybe. I dunno.”

“Open your eyes. I hope you like it.. I have makeup wipes if you don't.”

Connor opened his eyes, jumping back and letting out a small laugh of surprise. He leaned closer after the initial shock, looking at his face. It wasn’t much, but it was.. Pretty cool. He had some white stuff on his eyelid that was close to his nose. Under his eyes was a black to white gradient and he had some really bold eyeliner on which, honestly, his eyes never looked better. Also, his eyebrows were not just little wisps anymore and his lips didn’t look torn up and chewed on.

Alana thought she did a pretty good job, closing the palette and moving next to him.

“.. So?” She prodded, looking at Connor examining himself from different angles, bewildered.

“Dude.. This is a really good job.

Alana gasped happily. “Really? That’s great, Connor. You can have all of the makeup if you want.”

Connor’s half smile dropped and he sighed. “I can’t. I could _never_ wear this outside.”

“But, Connor, you look so--”

“I know.” He said. “But, like, no. No way. Thanks, but I think I’ll just keep it on in the van. Looks cool, though.”

Alana sighed but took the compliment. She did a good job, just Connor didn’t feel the need to show it off. That was fine.

Connor set down the mirror and looked over at her, keeping his face mostly still now and blinking weirdly. He wiped some mascara off and Alana chuckled.

“.. So, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Connor groaned and Alana laughed, hoping that was a joking groan. He was smiling, so she thought so. He looked through the list and then shrugged. “Whatever, dude, uhhh what’s the meanest thing you’ve done?”

Alana whined, feeling her back chill. “I'm not sure I want to tell you that..”

“Fuck off, dude, I had to put on a full face of makeup and told you about bald headed me. You gotta do it.”

Alana shifted in her spot so that she was sitting with her knees bent to her chest instead of sitting with her legs crossed. After a minute of careful consideration, she sighed.

“Okay, so..” She started anxiously. “I hated this one girl back in eighth grade. I really, _really,_ hated her. Like, I was convinced this girl was.. Devil incarnate, yeah? I think it’s because she got higher grades than me, looked better than me, made fun of me.. You get the gist.”

Connor nodded, following along.

“So, one day.. I decided to be mean and get back at her for being mean to me earlier. I wanted revenge, basically, so I started this rumour around school that she was pregnant--”

Connor wheezed in laughter, eyes wide.

“Oh my god, you fucking _what?? YOU?_ Holy _shiiit_..”

Alana nodded shamefully, ducking her head down. “I feel awful about it now.. But, I mean, I wouldn’t have done it if she hadn’t made fun of me for so long and stolen my shorts for gym class. I had to buy whole new ones and run in my black leggings the whole mile. It sucked.”

“Okay..” Connor nodded incredulously.

“So..” She continued. “It got out of hand and she kept trying to find the person who did it, like, who started the rumour? She beat up every kid who she thought was the.. Culprit.. Until they were bloody or pretty scared. It was.. Horrible. Honestly, I wanted to come clean to her more than once but I just couldn't stand the idea of what she’d do to _me._ Turns out, three months later.. She looks a bit bigger.. And _it turns out,_ she actually _was_ pregnant. I don’t know if she had the baby or not but.. It was crazy.”

Connor laughed quietly, rubbing his temples. “That’s fucking amazing. You’re so awesome.”

Alana laughed along, laying down and staring up at the car ceiling, thinking about the days events. Mainly what Zoe had said. She was starting to wonder what she was even doing here anymore.. Well, she was here to have fun and.. help him? Was that the goal anymore? Or was he more than that?

“So, truth or dare?”

“I don’t want to play anymore.”

Connor tilted his head. “Oh. Um, okay. Was it.. Was that too much to talk about?”

“No, no.. I just keep thinking about.. Zoe.”

Connor’s shoulders slumped, letting his head roll to look up. The orange honey glow of the sun setting illuminating the car just enough to make it seem later than it was, more isolated than it was.

“.. Why are you thinking about her?” He asked.

Alana bit her lip. “.. Just.. worried, is all. She seems scared whenever I see her with you.”

She decided to keep her answer short and vague- in truth she was worried about many things: mostly that Zoe is right about Connor. That Connor _could_ hurt her and that.. She wouldn’t know what to do then. But, Connor hadn’t hurt her so far.. And it felt wrong to think about him in that way. He was a sweet guy. A scary guy, but soft. He caught frogs and dug around in the trash and put glitter in his nails- he was more than just Connor Murphy, school freak. He was.. Connor. Connor Murphy, her friend.

“.... Do you think she hates me?”

Alana looked over.

“.. Maybe? I don’t know.”

Connor nodded solemnly, sighing. “I deserve it. I mean, I still think she’s making a big deal out of it but.. Y’know.. I guess I could try to understand.”

“.. I think she’s not making a b-- you _sta--”_

“Alana. Shut up. I don’t wanna be reminded of that.”

Alana pressed her lips together, looking up at the dimly lit roof. “Don’t tell me to shut up.”

“....” Connor sighed. “‘Kay.”

“.. Why are we out here again?” Alana said, trying to change the subject. She was tired of talking about all of this- about how moral Connor was or what she should do or plan for or.. If Zoe was okay. “Specifically at this cliff?”

Connor gasped, sitting up. “Oh! Right! Come look!” He got out of the car. Alana followed, a lop-sided, confusedly fond, smile on her face before she gasped as well.

In front of them was a fading, yet beautiful, sunset over the forest below. Connor sat on the hood of his car, leaning against the windshield and taking out a cigarette. He patted the spot next to him and Alana cautiously climbed up.

“This is really pretty, Connor..” She mused, leaning against him a bit.

He smiled at her, flicking open the light for his cig. “Thanks.”

Alana scrunched up her nose, taking the cigarette and chucking it over the cliff. Connor gasped in dismay.

“My cigarette! Dude! The fuck!?"

“Those things’ll give you cancer, y’know.” She said importantly. He scowled. “I fucking know that, asshole. I don’t care.” He took out another one and she smacked it away again, taking the whole pack from his back pocket and putting it in her pocket. He crossed his arms stubbornly, sticking out his tongue at her and blowing a raspberry along with a middle finger. She rolled her eyes and returned the childish gesture, giving him a pat on the back.

“It’s okay, Connor. You can do other things to calm anxiety.”

“....” He pulled out a juul. Alana frowned and went to take it but he kept her back.

“It’s okay got 20 nic, okay?? I’m fine!”

“That’s still a lot of nicotine!”

“I can lower it!”

She hummed, sitting back. “.... well..” She clicked her tongue. “.. Fine. But only to ease you out of real cigarettes.

He rolled his eyes, taking a hit and blowing out rings of smoke. It smelled like strawberries, which was weird.

They sat there for a while in silence, just watching the sun go down. Alana took out her phone and put the event on her story, wanting to make sure she could look back at this for later. She boredly tapped through the filters, finding a cute dog one.

“Hey, Connor.”

“Hm?” Connor turned his head, recoiling at the camera pointed at his face. “Dude, the fuck?” He shielded himself from the lens, making Alana laugh.

“Calm down! It’s just a filter..”

She inverted the camera and scooted close to Connor, resting her head on his shoulder. He rolled his eyes and shyly smiled, giving a peace sign at the camera. Alana felt how uncomfortable he was and put an arm around him, resting her head again and taking the selfie. She brought down the camera, admiring the cute dog ears on them. Connor laughed curiously at the photo, tilting his head like an actual puppy and resting it on Alana just as she did before. She felt her heart skip and a smile open on her face at the gesture. She posted the photo to her story after some filters and face covering stickers were added and gave Connor a hug. Connor giggled and hugged back happily, cheeks pink.

The sun's light faded from their side of the Earth. They didn’t stop cuddling until Alana almost fell off the hood. Connor laughed as he helped her up and then off the car. Alana was not as amused.

They climbed into their seats, Connor buckling himself in and placing his hand on the gear shift. Alana’s hand came down on his and he looked up. She smiled at him and brought him close for another hug. He accepted, heart swelling. This one was a short hug, however, as Alana retracted a couple seconds later and left him with only that perfect smile she had. Not perfect-perfect like how she usually smiled but.. Moderately perfect. Humanly perfect. Connor gave back a smile of his own: goofy and unfamiliar but still genuine as ever.

As they drove home, Alana put on 90’s feel-good music, staring out the window at the stars littering the sky like the sparkles left over from Connor’s wiped away eye makeup, or the glimmering that was in both their eyes.

They pulled up to her house, it being about 10:54 by now.

“.. We should do this more.” Suggested Connor.

“Yeah, we should.” Said Alana.

“.. You’re..” Connor started, then trailed off. Alana was grabbing her stuff as he trailed, smiling knowingly to herself as she got out of the car, still peeking inside.

“I’m what?”

“.. Sorry, it’s nothing.”

“You can tell me.”

“I say this a lot but.. You’re a great friend, Alana. I really.. _Really_ like you.”

Alana flushed, twisting her braids. “Aw.. I- you don’t say- say that a lot, actually.. Um..”

“I don't’?”

“No?”

“.. Well, then.. You’re a great friend and I like you a lot.” He said smiling. She giggled and climbed back into the car, giving him a big hug. He laughed along with her, hugging her back with as much force he could put on her without crushing her. They were both trying to convey something to each other, hearts full and wanting to share that feeling but uncertain how. Alana only knew to hug him tighter and longer, loving his firm yet gentle hold and how the many layers on his small body made him seem softer than he was. Connor enjoyed her warmth, her strong and certain hold on him made him feel grounded for once. He wanted to be here, to be present in this moment for as long as he lived. Which, right about now, he was hoping would be longer than the end of high school.

They had to peel themselves apart eventually, saying their goodbyes and thank yous and ‘i like yous’ and whatnot before Alana went inside. Connor waved as she went, driving back home. He answered his parents questions with a cheerful smile, surprising them with his mood and going upstairs.

Alana had sank happily against her bed, pushing her homework aside for tomorrow and just letting herself be happy.

They both went about their own lives, still high from the afternoons events. Connor laid down on the couch to watch TV, snuggled up in one of the sweaters Alana had bought for him, wearing the lightest dash of makeup Alana gave him and thinking about how happy he felt in this moment. Alana, with her now free time, played on her phone and pulled her favourite stuffed animal close to replicate the feeling of hugging Connor.

They lasted ten minutes before one texted the other, before they called and talked and talked until Alana’s dad told her to go to bed and they hung up, continuing their conversation silently in texts. At midnight, Connor told Alana to go to bed and so, with much convincing, she did, promising to talk to him tomorrow. He made the same promise and sent her a double heart emoji- something that was less serious than a whole heart, he hoped. She sent one back, along with an arrow heart and then shut her eyes, sleeping peacefully.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave comments! they motivate me to write more and tbh i need that rn (sickness) so pls post some!! no limit to how many :)


	17. The Necklace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe’s a queer trainwreck, Alana is cute, and Connor shouldn’t be mentioned anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a day late bc 1 was sick 2 just finished it last night tbh and 3 i went to a party so yeahhhh hope yall still see this shit tho
> 
> tw: mentions of abuse, stabbing, uhh i think thats it idk sorry if theres some more shit in here. just watch out i guess
> 
> PS: "snoofed" means a small laugh where u just blow air out ur nose. its a word i learned from someone and its a good word so its here & thats what it means

Zoe can’t shake the feeling that something horribly wrong is going on in her life.

She’s been feeling this dread now for weeks, it originally starting when Alana came over to her house for dinner and cried in the backyard for a reason she still doesn’t know about. It’s been pooling in her stomach and clogging up the steady flow of time like a clump of messy hair in the shower drain. She can feel it shake her when she sees Alana in the halls with Connor, smiling and laughing together and sometimes even.. Holding hands. It was disgusting, honestly, she should be the one holding hands with Alana Beck: the cutest and most wonderful girl she’s ever known- not her brother: tall, dark, and douchebag. She knew that nothing was really going on between them; Connor was gay and so he wasn’t exactly trying to get into Alana’s pants but he’s certainly gotten into her heart. 

She sits down next to Alana in seventh, Alana smiling at her and starting up conversation like she usually did. Zoe didn’t feel that sociable but.. It was Alana.

“So what’s up?” Alana greets casually, leaning over to Zoe. Zoe smiles fakely and turns off her music, setting down her earbuds before turning back to Alana.

“Nothin’. What’s up with you?”

“The sky.”

Zoe groaned. Alana chuckled. 

Zoe felt a tired smile creep onto her face as she kept talking to Alana. Though, something about it was bittersweet: She could see the scar in Alana’s hand when she rose it as high as she could, or the small circles under her eyes, or the way she would check her phone in class for messages when usually she didn’t even glance at it until class was over. Zoe felt her stomach twist in weird ways at this, growing more restless as class went on. 

The teacher announced a small partner project by the end of class and without thinking Zoe put her hand on Alana’s shoulder, claiming her as her partner silently. Alana smiled and mimicked her, putting her hand on Zoe’s farthest shoulder- like she was putting her arm around her. Zoe’s heart skipped at the motion, biting her lip and leaning slightly into it before the moment was gone a couple seconds later.

Getting out their laptops, the two girls started to work. Alana started another conversation.

“So..” Alana said. “Um- are you doing anything this weekend?”   


Zoe shrugged. “Um.. not really? I’m going to see a movie on sunday with a couple friends but I’m free today after school and saturday. Why?”

“Oh, I just wanted to maybe.. Hang out with you?” 

Zoe blushed, looking up at Alana.

“I know I’m usually  _ super  _ busy but.. I’m free saturday so..” Alana shrugged tensely. “Do you want to maybe.. Go somewhere?”

Zoe smiled. “Sure. I love hanging out with you.”

Alana beamed, nodding eagerly and getting out her phone. “What time? Where?”

“Uh..” Zoe chuckled. “I dunno. Maybe one? Like.. at your house?”   


“Why not your house? It’s much cooler.”

Zoe bit her lip, looking pointedly at her computer. “I don’t want to. Family could be home.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I just don’t want to, okay?!” Zoe growled, yanking out her earbuds and glaring at Alana. Alana shrunk back, shutting off her phone and nodding quietly. Zoe frowned, realizing she was losing her cool and taking a few deep breaths.

“Sorry, dude, I’ve just.. Been a bit stressed recently? I’m fine, like, i’m fine, but.. I dunno. I’m not mad.”

“.. Are you okay?” Alana scooted her chair closer, putting a comforting hand on Zoe’s shoulder- oh if only she could feel that hand forever. 

“I’m fine.” She repeated. Alana nodded in a way that meant she didn’t believe Zoe and gave her a quick hug before returning to her computer, leaving Zoe red-faced and desperately finishing their project to get over her fluttering heart.

 

\----

 

Zoe pulls up to Alana’s house, shifting the car into park and letting the Janelle Monae song on her phone finish before pocketing the AUX and getting out. 

Today was a nice day, she thought, the leaves were falling into nice piles on usually perfect lawns, the air was chilly- but not too chilly- and everything seemed to have this nice, afternoon, haze around it. Zoe locked her car and went up to the door, ringing the bell and giving the door a knock before looking around some more at the cobwebs in the corner of the doorway, or the small bee bumbling around near the flowers before she heard the heavenly sound of Alana Beck’s door unlocking and the feeling of her greeting Alana with a tight hug, which was reciprocated lovingly before Zoe took off her shoes and walked into the living room.

“So.. what do you wanna do?” Alana asked. Zoe had already sat down on the couch, pulling over a blanket.

“Netflix?”   


Alana nodded in agreement. “Yeah!” She started going through the shows, humming. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Um.. anything, really?”

“Like a TV show or a movie?”   
Zoe shrugged. “Movie.”

Alana spent a few more minutes going through the movies before Zoe got fed up and grabbed the remote, selecting “Coraline” and sitting back down. “There. Now let’s just chill and watch.”

Alana nodded, leaning back into the couch and into Zoe, who was attempting to coax Alana into snuggling. Alana wasn’t a very touchy person, though, Zoe knew that, so getting her to do that would be impossible if they Zoe didn’t have a blanket. Luckily, there was one on the couch, and draped it over them both. Alana smiled up at her placantly, adjusting so they could be closer. Zoe felt her heart flutter again as she put an arm around Alana, keeping her eyes mostly on the screen to appear as if this was all casual and totally not planned. Alana giggled softly, only making Zoe’s job of staying chill harder, and put her head on Zoe’s shoulder.

“Is this.. Okay?” Alana asked. Zoe nodded.

“Uh- y-yeah! It’s fine. Just- y’know, hugs are.. Good.”

Zoe hit herself internally. That was  _ smooth _ .

Alana didn’t seem to mind, though, just watching the movie with growing interest.

“Y’know, I’ve never actually seen this movie before.” She said after a while. Zoe raised her eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I thought it was too scary when I was little.”

Zoe snorted. Alana rolled her eyes and gave Zoe a small shove. “C’mon! I was, like, three, okay? It was scary..”

“Oh, yeah, this is terrifying.” Zoe joked sarcastically. 

“Well, yes, to a three year old!”

“I was being sarcastic.”

Alana huffed. “Right. Darn it.”

Zoe smiled, squeezing Alana to herself for a moment. “It’s alright, dude, but seriously, I can’t relate. I watched the first saw when I was like.. Nine.”

Alana shuddered. “Gross.. Saw is the worst horror movie franchise.”

“What??” Zoe gasped. “But it’s  _ so _ good!”

“Yeah! I know! It’s just.. Too scary. There’s so many torture scenes and I really feel bad for everyone..”

Zoe couldn’t help but smile at the concerned look on Alana’s face. God, she was cute.

“That’s understandable..” Zoe said, sighing and turning back to the movie. 

At one point Alana’s cat joins them on the couch, leaping up and coming over to Alana’s lap. Zoe tries to convince the cat with increasingly ridiculous cooing that it should sit on  _ her _ lap instead until Alana graciously placed Professor Puddinpop on Zoe’s lap. Zoe gasped loudly and started cooing again, scritching under the cats chin and trying to kiss it’s perfect little small head that she could  _ fit in her hands _ before it hopped off and walked away. Zoe whined and Alana laughed for a while, leaning against Zoe for support. Zoe found it contagious and chuckled, too.

“S-sorry-” Alana apologizes, still giggling. “She’s really stubborn.”

“It’s fine.” Zoe replies lightheartedly. “I mean, at least she got on me? So?”

“Yeah..”

…

Feeling a lull in conversation, Zoe cleared her throat. “Um- I used to have a pet once.”

“Oh! Really? The hamster?”

“No, no, before that.” Zoe says. “We had a dog. Her name was Bruce.”

“Wh-” Alana tilted her head. “Why Bruce?”

“‘Cause uh.. Connor didn’t want a girl dog so he pretended she was a boy. We were like.. Seven or something so.” She shrugged. “Anyways! Uh.. she was really cute. Like, this big fluffy uh..” She clicked her tongue a few times. “What are they called? Border.. Collies?? The big ones that are white and brown..” Zoe shook her head. “Whatever. She was cute.”

“That’s nice.” Alana brushed some of her hair aside. “What happened to her?”

“Died. Like all things do eventually.”   


“Oh.” Alana frowned. “Uh-”

Zoe blushed. “Sorry, sorry, that was kind of dark, huh?”

Alana shook her head. “No, no, it’s fine. Just didn’t expect it? Uhm- yeah. That’s nice, though.. Think you guys will get a dog again?”

“Uh.. I think I’m set with my hamster.”

“How about.. Connor? He going to get anything maybe?”

Zoe scowled. “No. I dunno- I hope he doesn’t.”

“Why?”

“He’s a real dick to animals- he kicked Bruce when we were little and..” She slumped a little into the couch. “I’d rather not talk about it..”

Alana winced, pulling back from Zoe. “Jeez, that sounds--”

“I don’t wanna fucking talk, Alana.”

“.... But.. I could help you? Like, I’m pretty good at.. Helping people and-”

“Yeah, I know.” Zoe blurted, immediately feeling her throat close up afterwards.

Alana drew her eyebrows together, leaning back even further. “What’s.. That supposed to mean?”

“....”

“.. Zoe?”

“....” Zoe sighed. “It’s just-- I dunno. I don’t want to ruin the mood- I just want to.. Be here with you, okay?”

Alana looked at Zoe silently, biting the corner of her lip and taking a slow breath.

“.. F-fine.” She pulled Zoe into a close hug, startling her. “But.. Um, you should talk to me sometime.”

Zoe hugged back tightly. “Okay.” She manages to say, putting the blanket over them again and watching as Professor Puddinpop come up and cuddle between their laps. Alana pet her soft white fur carefully.

“She always knows when to come in, huh?” Zoe muttered. Alana nodded, eyes on Zoe. “.. She can sense when you’re sad.”

Zoe snoofed, giving the cat some butt pats and sighing. “That’s cool. You have a psychic cat.”

“Huh. I guess so..”

Professor Puddinpop adjusted so she was laying on her side, tummy exposed. Alana and Zoe both reached to pet it, their hands brushing. Zoe pulled her back, Alana did the same.

“..."

“...”

Alana chuckled, gently grabbing Zoe’s hand and placing it on her cats stomach, putting her on on its head. Zoe just sat there for a second, thinking ‘holy shit’ over and over again because that was really cute and Alana’s hands felt so nice to hold and she was so  _ warm _ and FUCK it was hard to keep her cool right now. She gave the cat a few distracted pats, scooting closer to Alana despite her now pink face.

Most of the couple hours they spend over at Alana’s go well- they watch a couple movies and Zoe’s heartbeat gets increasingly faster everytime Alana giggles or smiles or does basically anything- especially the one moment Alana had just sat down after getting a snack and attempting to get right back into their snuggling position accidentally put her hand on Zoe’s boob. She took it right off, of course, and they laughed about it but Zoe’s laugh was much more stiff that it would have usually been. She understands now why she never hangs out with Alana- it’s too fucking stressful to be  _ this  _ gay.

  
  


“Think I should kill it?” Zoe asks warily. It’s nearing seven PM now and they’re both huddled on Alana’s bed, watching a spider that had to be at least as big as Zoe’s palm sit in the corner.

“No, no, we should- capture it or something..” Alana suggests, looking around for a cup. Zoe shakes her head.

“No, no, it’s gonna get pissed then it’s gonna run- we gotta smash it.”

“But Zo--”

The spider scurries from the corner suddenly and Alana screams, gripping onto Zoe’s shoulder. “Kill it! Kill it!!” 

Zoe laughs nervously and gives Alana a reassuring pet. “I’m gonna, I’m gonna..” She’s watching the spider again and feeling around for a book she knew Alana had on the bed earlier- one of those thick SAT study guide books too. 

“Should I beat him to death?”   


“Just do it!” Alana whines. Zoe finds the book and grabs it, sitting up more. 

“I’ve never seen one that big..”

“I have one time.” Alana comments again, backing up on the edge of her bed. “I screamed really loud- woke my dad up..”

“It’s not moving..”

“I know! Just do it, then! If it’s not moving then it probably won’t move until you go at it! Just do it!”

“I’m gonna!!”

Zoe sits on the edge, perched for a bit.

“.. Just- just move the chair- it’s scaring you, like, it’ll get in the way-”

“I’m not scared of the fuckin’ chair- I’m scared of the spider!” Zoe fires back jokingly.

Alana wheezes a bit, chuckling. Zoe stands up and slowly walks over, raising the book high above her head.

“No!!” Alana whisper-yells.”You can’t do it from up that high!”

“No, fuck this dude.”

“No, you can’t do it from up there, you have to get down closer.”

Zoe sighs. “Oh shit.”

Alana laughs. “Just do it! Just do it!”

“.. Okay.” Zoe nods to herself, crouching down as far as she can before dropping the book on the spider with a loud slam, jumping up and stomping down on the book before running back to the bed squealing.

“Fuck fuck fuck oh my god!!” Zoe latched onto Alana. “Do you think it’s dead??”

“I- I don’t know!” Alana said angrily. “Just go check it! Probably!!”

Zoe whined, getting up and gently kicking the book. She didn’t see the corpse- which meant either it was on the book dead or alive and hidden. She slowly lifted the edge with her shoe, seeing the spiders corpse flush against the cover relieving her as she kicked the book under Alana’s desk and came back over.

“It’s dead.”   


Alana sighed in relief, laying back. “Jesus, that was horrifying.”

“Yeah. You need to, like, fix that shit.”

“It’s not usually a problem! I think just because it’s autumn or something they’ve decided to come back in..”

“Still, though!”

“Whatever.” Alana pulled out her phone. “We’ve killed it so.. It’s fine now.”

“Uh, I think you mean  _ I  _ killed it?” Zoe laid back, smirking. Alana blushed. “Oh, right, sorry.”

“.. That was sarcasm-”

“Oh!” Alana furrowed her brows. “How, though? It’s true.”

“Well, I meant it like.. In a dick-ish way but I actually wasn’t being a dick so?”

“.. Oh.”

Zoe bit her lip. 

They let the awkward silence come over them, it wasn’t as awkward as, say, two people on a first date realizing they have nothing to talk about but it definitely wasn’t ‘we’re best friends so silence is okay’ silence. Sometimes they had those comfortable silences, actually, but usually now the teacher would start talking or one would find an excuse as to why the conversation ended instead of just letting it trail off.

“.. So, um,” Alana started, setting down her phone. “How’s.. Everything?”

“Good.” Zoe answered. “Life’s alright. You?”

“Good. I’ve been having.. Fun? Recently? I like having fun.”

Zoe smiled fondly, deciding not to comment on how cutely lame that statement was.

“.. Are you having fun now?”

“Well, yeah!” She smiled, then frowned. “Well.. not as much fun as I’ve had before but this is, like, chill fun!”

“.. Right.” Zoe nodded, a bit hurt for some reason. “.. So, then, what..  _ Was  _ the fun you’ve.. Had before..?” She struggled to form the sentence, smacking herself internally for speaking.

“Um..” Alana thought. “Recently? Hanging out with Connor. He’s really nice and funny and.. We catch frogs together sometimes!”

“You- what?” Zoe scoffed.

“It sounds weird, I know, but he actually knows a lot about frogs and stuff and it’s super cool because he recommended I watch this youtube series online where this guy gets bit by a bunch of animals and tells you about those animals and it’s really fun! He’s a great guy.”

Zoe nodded slowly, feeling her stomach twist again like that hair in the shower drain.

“.. Alana, can you- I hate to fucking ask this but can you just promise me something?”

“Um.. sure?”

“Can you  _ please _ stop talking about Connor? I know you’re, like,  _ super _ obsessed with him now or some shit but just not around me, alright?”

“What??” Alana sat up. “I’m not obsessed. What do you mean??”   


“You are-” She groaned, slamming her fist against the bedding as she sat up too. “You just talk about him  _ so fucking much _ , okay? I know that I can’t, like, change your mind or anything about hanging out with him because you’re stubborn and shit and won’t just back off just because I told you to an- and- yeah! He seems..” She crinkled her nose. “He hasn’t done anything shitty  _ yet _ so it’s  _ fine _ but just don’t drag me into all your guys’s shit, alright? I don’t need to know about how he’s so fucking great or how he’s funny; I just want to hang out with you.”

Alana presses her lips together, narrowing her eyes like she’s angry but not really saying anything until a couple seconds go by.

“.. Why? Why are you so.. Against this? I know he was a bad person before but.. He’s changed. Why can’t you accept that? Why can’t you accept, for maybe a moment, that he’s actually  _ nice  _ and that we are.. I have a friend?”

“Because I wanted him to be like that!” Zoe suddenly bursts, feeling tears prick at her eyes like needles. “ _ I  _ was the one who looked up to him for- for all those years when I was young-- I remember just- just trying so hard to be kind to him and trying and  _ trying _ to understand why he would push me around or call me names or- or why suddenly he didn’t want to lay with me in the backyard and look for stars anymore! And after all that- after  _ everything _ I tried he was still just a horrible fucking monster and I don’t see why NOW he’s a good person! Why  _ now?  _ Why- why  _ now  _ is he pretending to not be some fucking douchebag who ruined my fucking LIFE! Why now is.. Why couldn’t he..”

Zoe starts sobbing.

“I’m more than just.. Every single day I see him.. And I never- I can never be alone.. I can’t ever escape him because he makes the house smell like weed and everyday he makes a scene at home or at school and I have to be the one to pick it all up and now.. Now he’s taking over this, too. Now I can’t even be.. I can’t even hang out with you without him coming up..”

She feels her tears escape onto the bedding and her shoulder tense up and she keeps thinking to herself how fucking stupid this is- how she’s already cried over him so much in all her life, how long she’s spent thinking about him, covering for him, watching him, how _long_ her life has been consumed by this demon who infested her home and made her have her first breakdown at thirteen, who never really apologizes for his actions and how much he didn’t deserve to be cried about, or cared over, or even thought about because he was none of her _damn business_ _anymore._

Yet here she was, a trainwreck crying into Alana’s arms which had wrapped around her minutes ago, her gentle voice soothing the shameful tremors that shook Zoe’s body as she held her close. Zoe let all her tears pour out onto her sleeve.

“Zoe.. I’m-” Alana struggled for words. “.. I didn’t know.”

“But you did.” Zoe says before she can stop herself. “You fucking did. I’ve warned you about him--”

“I thought you just hated him for being a bad person! I didn’t know you didn’t want me to talk about him anymore!”

“Whenever he comes up I tell you not to talk about it.”

“Zoe, I thought that was just a ‘I don’t want to talk about it right now’ situation.. You know I’m not the best and deciphering.. Words.”

“....”

“.. We need to talk about this, though, Zoe.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Just to get everything out of the way?”

“....” Zoe sighs. “Fine. One final time Connor’s name will be mentioned. One time.”

“.... Okay.”

Zoe waits for Alana to start talking. Alana seems to think that maybe Zoe should talk first, but speaks anyways.

“... So, should I talk to Connor about this?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Don’t ask me that-- and yes.” Her voice breaks. 

Alana rubs Zoe’s arm.

“.. I- I honestly can’t think of much to say. Um..” 

“It’s okay.”

“.. Well.” Alana sighs. “I promise to not talk about him unless we need to, okay? And- and I’m always willing to help, you know.”

“I know.”

“.. So.” She brushes Zoe’s hair back, gazing into her eyes sympathetically. “Is.. everything settled now? We won’t talk about Connor and I- I can hang out with him and.. You’ll talk to me if you want to and..”

“Yeah. I will.” Zoe leaned into the touch, holding out her pinky finger.

“.. This is stupid but it- it’ll make me feel better so-”

Alana smiled and pinky promised her, hugging her again.

“.. I really appreciate you telling me all that.”

Zoe doesn’t respond.

Alana sighs, stumped again on what to say. They’ve been friends for a long time, but somehow things always just felt slightly off between them. She’d never seen Zoe this emotional before.

“.... Alana?”

“Yeah?”

“.. I’m, actually really sorry about.. Freaking out-”

“No!” Alana grabbed Zoe’s shoulders, forcing her to look at her. “Don’t apologize!! It’s okay!! We’re past it!”

“But-”

“No apologizing for feeling things!! I know I'm being rude right now but I’m not gonna let you feel bad about telling me how you feel!”

Zoe chuckled weakly. “Man, I love you.”

Alana tilted her head. “What?”   


“.... Sorry.”

“No, no..” Alana pressed a finger to Zoe’s lips. “You gotta tell me now what you said. No sorry’s.”

“.. I don’t really want to-”

“You’ll feel better once you say it.”

“No, like-” Zoe sighed. “I actually don’t wanna talk about that right now. I’ll text you later about it but.. Can we just watch Netflix again? Please? I’ll.. feel better.”

Alana nodded, trying to be understanding and helping Zoe off the bed even though Zoe was fine physically.

“.. By the way, um-” Zoe muttered when they reached the couch. “I might be.. Kind of touchy? The rest of the day? Just, like, hugs and stuff.. If I get annoying you can push me off the couch or something but..”

“I’m not gonna push you off the couch, Zoe..” Alana pulled Zoe down to the couch with her, putting the blanket around them and giving her a big hug. “It’s nice to share.. Affection with people. It should be more normal.”

“.. Yeah.” She agreed half-heartedly, cuddling up to Alana and burying her face in her soft shoulder- intaking the vanilla scent and the warmth she gave off. “It should.. You’re a really good..” She yawned. “Hugger..”

Alana aww’d. “Really?”

“Yeah. You feel like..” Zoe thought. “.. The sun. Warm and nice and.. Yeah.”

Alana started to card her fingers through Zoe’s hair tentatively. “Thank you.. You feel like a coffee shop, if that makes sense.”

Zoe snorted. “It doesn’t..”

“Well-” Alana said. “It’s very nice and homey.. And I always feel like it’s freezing outside but when.. I hug you I feel warm? Like sipping on some nice hot coffee alone at a table and looking out the window and seeing all the nice trees and stuff and.. Then.. um..” She started to blush. “You- you- also kind of.. Sometimes smell like.. Pumpkin spice. So.. I mean, not that I’m really.. Smelling you? Just-”

“I have spray on pumpkin spice.”

“Oh!” Alana laughed, sniffing a bit. “Yeah, that makes sense.. It smells nice!”

“....” Zoe looked up at Alana, squeezing her eyes a couple times to keep tears back. They weren’t sad tears like before, but still stung. “.. Thank you. It- that means a lot.”

Alana frowned, confused, but didn’t comment, only giving Zoe a ‘you’re welcome’ and adjusting so they could more comfortably be together. Zoe let herself relax into Alana, something she’s needed for a long time- just to relax into someone’s arms and be heard.

 

\---- 

 

Zoe arrives home at nine, the high of Alana Beck still on her clothes and her fingers still going through her hair like a dream she keeps repeating over and over in her head.

All that is gone when she sees Connor, standing in the kitchen and staring at her with his weirdly squinty eyes and skeleton face. He’s like a corpse that you turn around in a dark hallway in a horror movie.

“.. Hey.” He greets. 

“Hey.” She says back, already trying to leave.

“Hey, hey, don’t uh-” He reaches out for a second. “.. Don’t leave. I have something for you.”

This sends a jolt through her spine. “.. What is it?” She asks skeptically, keeping her distance.

“Close your eyes.”

“No.”

He scoffed. “Zoe, c’mon, close your-”

“ _ No _ .”

Connor sighed. “Then can you at least hold out your hands..?”

She put a hand through her hair. It didn’t feel the same. 

“Just give it to me.”

Connor sighs and holds out a small red box from under his jacket, putting it in her hands. She flinches at first, but makes sure not to drop it.

“.. What is it?” She asked cautiously.

“Just open it.”

Zoe bit her lip, setting the box down on the kitchen table and slowly tugging the ribbon off, then prying open the box until she saw what was inside.

“What’s.. This?”

“.. Your necklace.”

  
Zoe raised her brows, taking out the small gold necklace, a small two eighth note symbol hanging off like a charm.

“From when I was-”

“Yeah.”

Zoe stared at it, the world around her blurring. 

“So, this is the same one?"   


“No, no, it’s- I bought it at Claire's. There’s a.. Receipt in there if you wanna return it. I didn’t know if, like, there was one music note or two but two seemed prettier so..” He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. 

“.. Why?” She asks angrily, putting down the necklace and scrunching up her face, trying to keep her ground. “Why are you doing this? Why the fuck would you- you give me a replica of that necklace from that awful fucking night-”

“Because I felt bad, Zoe!”

“.. What?” She scoffs, tears poking at the backs of her eyes again. “What the fuck?”   


“....” Connor took a deep breath, cracking his knuckles and rubbing a kink in his neck. “So, like, you know how.. Mom and dad forced me back into therapy and shit?”

“....”

Connor looked up. 

Zoe shook her head impatiently. “Yeah, I know. Just keep talking or whatever.”

“.. So.” He continued. “I’ve been actually.. Learning shit now? And trying to do.. Actual good things? It’s fucking exhausting but I feel.. Better now and so.. I’m trying to make up for what I did.. With the whole..” He made a stabbing motion with an awkward smile. “Yeah.”

Zoe stands there in disbelief, the small necklace glimmering under the light, taunting her. She can hardly speak- her eyes feel like they’re on fire and she feels small and weak, hopeless and taken advantage of for the millionth time in her life.

“Fuck you.” She says before she can remind herself to be okay. “Fuck. You. You think this makes up for everything? You- you think a shitty--” She glances at the receipt. “-- fifteen dollar necklace that you  _ probably stole _ makes up for my entire life!? Every single time I’ve had to walk up to a kid you shoved and fucking apologize  _ FOR YOU? _ For how much I’ve cried over shit that didn’t even matter because of YOU!?” 

She shoved Connor a couple times, thudding her fist against his chest weakly as she holds back tears.   


“I shouldn’t be- I should be normal! I should be okay! And- and you think you fucking me up is.. Can be forgiven with a necklace? How dare you.”

She lets the air sit, but mostly because she can’t get any more words out.

“.... I didn’t steal it and-” He inhaled through his teeth, looking away shyly. “I uh- kinda knew you weren’t gonna be cool with this? I didn’t expect you to yell but it’s okay if you don’t accept my apolo--”

“SHUT UP!” She yelled, stomping her feet. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Stop acting so  _ fucking  _ mature now! You’re not! You wanna kill me, I can see it!”

Connor swallowed, fidgeting again. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I wanna punch you. But I’m not- I’m not gonna. I’m  _ trying,  _ okay?” He hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder. Zoe yanked it off. She couldn’t handle this.

“Why?” The one question that had been on her mind since forever. “Why?”

She felt her chest heave and the lights dimly buzz around her, the necklace still glimmering just like it did on that day.

“.... Because.. You.. are.. Um..” He bit his lip.

“Don’t use any therapy bullshit. Just tell me.”

“.. ‘Cause you’re fuckin’ sad and you didn’t do anything so I uh- shouldn’t have stabbed you and shit? You pissed me off but.. You didn’t exactly stab me first so I think I should.. At least  _ try _ to fix this. And, like, it’ll take-- no, no, it-” He groaned. “God, this is hard. I just.. This is the right thing to do and shit so.. I’m doing it. ‘Cause, actually, I searched some shit up and you probably have trauma or some shit from me and, like, that fuck- that can fuck you up? For life? But you’re not a dick so you don’t.. Deserve that? You deserve, uh, a normal trauma free life and shit.”

“....”

Zoe grabbed the necklace, stuffing it in her pocket along with the receipt.

“.. What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She asked, the anger dissipating and just leaving that hopeless grief.

“What I just said!” Connor groaned again. “It’s- complicated! I’m trying to be a better person and shit!”

“Why??”

“Therapy!”

“That’s-”

“Like, that’s legitimately it! I get that you don’t wanna forgive me or  _ whatever _ but I tried, okay? I tried! So, there! Take it or leave it but I’m gonna not be a dick to you anymore and uh- be a good person! So fuck off and suck my dick!” He flipped her off, walking towards the steps.

“.. W-well--” Zoe floundered. “Suck mine first!”

Connor stopped halfway up the stairs, staring down at her.

“....”

“....”

“.... heh.” He chuckled. “Um- sorry.” 

He left.

Zoe finally let herself collapse on the floor, taking deep breaths and trying to process everything that had just happened. She found no luck in doing so and just went upstairs to her room, praying her parents would be home soon so she wouldn’t be stuck in this cage with her weird suddenly ‘trying’ brother. 

She could curl up on her bed right now, still sobbing tomorrow, she could give in. But, why? Why should she? Why should she cry for the second time today for him? All because of some stupid trauma and abuse that had embedded itself into her over the years of living with the monster that was.. Connor Murphy.

Still, some part of her wanted to let this all go- wanted to believe that Connor would genuinely be a better person, that he was actually going to be a good brother- the brother she always wanted.. The release she always had been thinking would only happen when he moved away to college. She wanted to just let all this fear, this hatred, this absolute destruction in her soul go in the form of a ‘I forgive you’ and a hug. 

She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. She knew she didn’t need to. 

“....”

She slowly took the necklace out of her pocket, hanging it around her neck. It felt more like a noose than a replica of her favourite necklace but.. It wasn’t suffocating.

“....”

She took it off and put it in her jewelry box next to the receipt, leaving her room and knocking on Connor’s door. He opened it mere seconds later, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“.. I want to say a couple things.” She started. Connor nodded, backing up a bit and making her a path to enter his room. She didn’t move.

“First of all, I don’t forgive you, and I never will. Second of all, I hate you. Third, I.. I like the necklace. It was one note but I think it looks better with two. And fourth.. Um..” She bit down on the inside of her lip, toes curling into the carpet. “None of this.. Better person stuff is.. It doesn’t make you better than me or undo all that shit you did. And no matter what I do or how anyone treats you differently or--” She sighs. “Let me start over: You, um, if you actually do become.. ‘ _ Better’;  _ that’d be great but I won’t let you-  _ you  _ won’t forget what you’ve already done. If you forget that, you’re gonna still be an asshole.”

Connor nodded slowly.

“.... I hate you.” She said again. Connor shrugged. “I know.”

“... Bye.” She said quickly, leaving to her room and shutting the door, curling up in her bed- but only to sleep. She wasn’t sad. She was tired. She just needed to sleep all this off.

Knocking.

Zoe whimpered and called out meekly “Come in.” 

Connor peered in.

“.... Goodnight.”

“Is that all you came to say?” She huffed.

“.. No, I also wanted to say that I- uh- I  _ will _ become a better person and uh- thanks for telling me what’s- uh-” He put his head against the doorframe. “Just thanks, I guess.. Goodnight now.”

“....” 

He shut the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment. like, for real. I'm not gonna think ur annoying they make my day also bc im proud of this chapter if i get no comments im gonna yeet myself into space k thx bye
> 
> also i promise fluffy chap is coming soon w 0 mental breakdowns so yayy stay tuned


	18. Just Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Alana hang out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tws here. this is probably gonna be about the second to last chapter? Honestly, I don't have any motivation to write this anymore and even if I did i wouldn't know where to take it. I think im okay with this just.. existing. as just a small thing with alana and connor and exploring their relationship with no real conclusion. ill try to make the actual ending somewhat satisfying but since this is my first (and probably last) fic i cant gauruntee anything special. sorry everyone but thanks to everyone who read this and supported me. and @space_dev (i think that was the username) thanks for your comment. it made me motivated to actually publish this even tho it isnt perfect. ily all

Alana Beck has been trying to do more fun things recently: she’s not sure  _ exactly  _ why but she thinks it might have something to do with her newfound friend: Connor Murphy. He was like the shove she needed to start enjoying things more; to take more risks and start pushing her homework aside for more things that would actually make her happy. It was kind of odd: how the most gloomy and edgy person in school could actually make her the happiest. Connor Murphy, as she had learned over the past couple months, was nothing like how people perceived him. He was funny, he was caring, he was empathetic and really just nothing like how she thought he would be.

They were trying to hang out more now; Alana had been busy with extra curriculars and whatnot and had been missing Connor (She could tell he missed her too). Right now, it was lunch, and they were both simply sitting there quietly- Alana’s head rested on his shoulder as he rested his on hers and his hand on her arm. It was sunny outside today and although Connor hated going outside because he was ‘allergic to the sun’ as he so stupidly put it- he wasn’t going to deny that being out with Alana was worth it. 

Alana had her eyelids parted slightly, taking her time in seeing the autumnal leaves that littered the grass beneath their feet and moonlight gray clouds, interwoven together in the endless sky above. There were a few other people outside, too, sat behind them and chatting quietly and she could see a group of people getting into a car in the student parking lot in front of them. She smiled to herself as a small memory came from that sight to her mind. She took her previously limp hand and held Connor’s, stirring him from his small nap to chuckle and pull her in more to him. She didn’t mind- she got to press her face against his soft fabric layers and smell the nice ‘ocean scented’ deodorant he used. She could tell he was happy, too, mostly because of the sleepy smile stuck on his face but also because she could hear his heartbeat: calm and swaying along with the trees around them. She shut her eyes, feeling like she’s seen enough of the moment.

She hears some footsteps coming closer to them, brushing it off before they both hear a familiar but not too familiar voice.

“‘Is that allowed?’” Says Jared Kleinman in a nasally voice, imitating a certain meme and pointing to Connor and Alana. Alana felt Connor sit up, looking over at Jared with tired eyes. “‘Is that allowed??’” Jared repeats again, snickering with his blonde friend that seemed kind of embarrassed. 

Alana goes to hold onto Connor as a safety precaution, but stalls when Connor only takes hold of Jared’s arm faintly. Jared flinches away but doesn’t remove Connor’s hand.

“... Hey.” Connor drawls out, his voice gruffer than usual with a small, tired, croak in it. “Can you.. Stop?”

Jared Kleinman scoffs awkwardly. His friend has moved farther away. “Um- what?”

“Like.. I don’t know what your deal is..” Connor continues, letting go of Jared’s arm and just letting his own drop against the bench. Alana can see his shoulders tense like a failed spark of a lighter. “But you need to stop, like, making fun of me and shit.”

“I wasn’t making fun of you- I was joking! It’s a vine.”

“I know.” Connor deadpans, then sits up a bit. “But, it’s not.. Funny. I don’t think it’s funny and It feels weird so stop? If you wanna just.. Talk to me or some shit then just.. Say hi.”

Jared stares.

“.. Like, not right now- I don’t wanna talk to you.. Right now. And, y’know, I was just.. Guessing.” Connor says, shrugging limply. “So, uh.. Stop?”

Alana can see his shoulders spark again, his face scrunching up just a bit when his fingers clench for a moment as Jared just stands there, staring at Connor before slowly nodding and awkwardly laughing- not in an annoying way like usual but.. Just a purely awkward laugh.

“Uh.. okay? I guess..? Just a-” He cuts himself off. “.. Nevermind. Bye. Don’t you two uh- don’t fuck on the bench.” He leaves quickly, face a little pink as he drags his blonde friend along with him, turning to glance back at Connor a few times as he left.

Connor watches him go and leans back into the bench, tension releasing as a small, calm, flame. Alana smiles and leans against him in a half hug. “That was really nice, Connor..”

“.. Hm?” He asks, wanting her to elaborate.

“Like.. i’m proud of you for keeping your cool.”

“... Thanks.” He stretches out, flame steadily blowing out with another gust of wind. “.. I’m- do you think I handled that well? I  _ really _ wanted to just deck his ass but--”

“Yeah.” She interrupts without a second thought. “You did good.”

Connor’s already rosy cheeks pinken at the praise. 

“.. I’ve- I’ve been.. Um.. trying to calm down recently.”

“Really? That’s good.”

“Yeah. I uh- Y’know you.. I mean, it’s weird but..” He put his shoulders up against his neck, starting to curl in on himself. “Um.. I’m actually pretty good right now. I think that.. I might actually learn how to calm down my anger issues for real?”

Alana holds his hand, letting him release his shoulders and instead curl into her. “That’s good.. I’m happy for you.”

“.. Yeah.” He says. “.. I just thought you might wanna.. Know. Since you want to be a therapist?”   


Alana nods, glad he remembered that about her. “Yeah, I do.. Did you have other therapists before this?”

“Yeah. A lot. All were old and not really.. They were only in it for the money, I think, but like.. Rachael is- her name is Rachael- Rachael is um.. She seems actually nice and she’s funny sometimes so it helps. I can’t really talk about.. Um- shit without.. Making a joke. Usually.”

Alana puts his head on her shoulder and nods along. “She sounds nice..”

“.. You okay?” He asks quietly, looking up at her. 

She frowns. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“You sound.. Weird. And tired.”

“I’m just..” She thinks. “.. sleepy. You’re very calming.”

Connor laughs a little. She laughs a bit, too, recognizing the irony of that statement.

“.... When does lunch end?”

Alana shrugs but checks her watch anyways. “Five minutes.”

“Cool.” Connor says, finishing off their conversation as he laid his head fully on Alana, shutting his eyes again. They resume their nice lunch nap time together, Alana’s head propped on Connor’s this time.

 

\----

 

[Connor (frog emoji) (holding hands emoji) (frog emoji)]:  _ ‘why not tho’ _

[Febreeze (Alana)]:  _ ‘Because id get no work done and also it would be boring.’ _

_ ‘It wouldnt be boring.. I could just sit while u finish?’ _

_ ‘No, connor, if you want to hang out we can do it on the weekend.’ _

_ ‘:( but like.. What if i help u finish ur hw? I wont rly have any until tmrw so..’ _

_ ‘Connor you have really bad grades’ _

_ ‘>:( fuck u’ _

_ ‘I'm sorry’ _

_ ‘It's okay. Ur right.’ _

_ ‘I know.’ _

_ ‘Wtf’ _

_ ‘>:-)’ _

_ ‘But like let me come over. What kind of hw is it.’ _

_ ‘APES’ _

_ ‘Uhhhhh whats apes’ _

_ ‘AP environmental science.’ _

_ ‘Shit dude fuck noooooooo okay fine we can hang out later’ _

_ ‘... I could put it off for a while’ _

_ ‘No no u don't have to i'm just being weird sorry’ _

_ ‘No! It’s okay. You can come over but you have to help’ _

_ ‘I'll help. I'll probably fuck u up but i'll help’ _

_ ‘It's really only note taking’ _

_ ‘Oh then i'm good. I'll be over in uhh few minutes. Ttyle’ _

_ ‘ttyl*’ _

_ ‘Okay! :-)' _

Alana first notices Connor is over when she hears some not so quiet cooing coming from downstairs and the purring approaching her room as Connor carries in Professor Puddinpop, holding her like a baby. Alana awws and takes her, holding her like a cat and looking over at Connor.

“You gotta hold her like this.”

Connor frowned. “Why? She liked being a baby..”

Alana hummed, looking down at her happy cat.

“.. I guess you can hold her like a baby.” She handed her back to him. Connor lit up and rocked her a bit halfway as a joke, attempting to nuzzle her face with his own before she leapt out of his arms. Alana giggled, handing him a book and spiral notebook. “Okay. Go to page 53 and follow the instructions, okay?”

“Okay.” He repeated, taking the book and starting to write some stuff down in the notebook.

They were able to sit together in silence for about ten minutes before Connor tapped Alana’s shoulder. “Hey.” He whispered. Alana looked back.

Connor turned around the notepad filled with messy notes, a small drawing of her cat in the margins.

“It’s Professor Puddinpop.”

Alana wanted to be mad that he wasn’t trying to finish but couldn’t help herself to a giggle.

“That’s really good, Connor.”

Connor scoffed, scribbling down a few more notes. “Nah..”

“It is, though! I can’t draw at all.”

“You can.”

Alana furrowed her brows. “No, I can’t.”

“.. If you try, you can.” He shrugged lightheartedly, glancing up at her with a small smile. She sighed and put down her book, grabbing Connor’s pen and starting to crudely scribble a flower. Once she was done, she sat back and smirked at her horrible work.

Connor looked at it, studying it for a bit before tilting his head fondly.

“It’s cute.”

Alana blushed, matching his pink. “W-what?? But, I drew it badly?”

“No, it’s just.. a really simple style. No art can be wrong, really.” He rolled onto his back, stretching and handing her the notepad again. “Do it again. Try this time.”

Alana bit her lip, slowly taking her pen instead.

“I’m not sure.. I should finish this..”

Connor whined, putting it in her lap. “C’mon!!”

“Connor, I don’t want to fail this..”

“Is the test tomorrow?”

“No, it’s.. In a month? This is for SAT practise..”

“What??” Connor sat up, face in disbelief. “Dude! Literally it’s in a month? What the f-- you don’t  _ need  _ to study right now!”

“But, like,” She whined, writing down a few notes as she kept talking. “What if I fail?”

“Over..” He looked on her paper. “.. You’re gonna fail over the definition of an  _ onomatopoeia?”  _

She huffed, pushing her book off her lap and snatching the notepad. 

“Fine! We can goof off for  _ five _ minutes! But not with this notebook!” She grabbed a different notebook, one with a plush baby blue cover and a penguin on the front. Alana opened it up to the middle and scribbled another flower in frustration. Connor took it when she was done, humming dramatically and picking up his own pen calmly.

“I’m gonna give it something. That okay?”

“.. It’s fine.” She said, setting down her phone which now had a timer of five minutes set on it. Connor frowned and looked up at her.

“.. If you’re that stressed about it, we can get to work..” He said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. She stared at him for a moment before taking a deep breath and shaking her head.

“No. I don’t want to do work anyways.”

“.. Okay.” He smiled at her, scribbling something in the book and handing it back to Alana. Now, her flower had a small smiley face on the center of it. She felt the air around them melt into a honey gold as she looked at the flower’s smile.

“.. You like it?” Connor asked, getting shoulder to shoulder with her. She nodded, putting her own pen to the paper again. 

“Mind if I add some more?”

“Go ahead. It’s your art.”

“No.. It’s..” She shut her eyes for a moment in thought. “.. It’s ours. A collab.”

Connor chuckled, laying back down next to Alana’s stuffed animal as she drew.

When done, it was a small field of flowers all different shapes, kinds, and sizes. She seemed to actually try this time- ending up with a simple bubbly style. Connor added a smile or otherwise positive expression on each, adding a few expertly drawn realistic roses of his own above the field, handing it back. The alarm for five minutes went off. Alana reset it and kept drawing until twenty minutes had passed and they had made a whole orchard together- planned out perfectly with fountains, trees, bushes, benches, etc. Sometimes there was random stuff in there- like a horse just standing in the pond because according to Connor he ‘got lost’ and that was ‘the pond horse’. Alana took the liberty of adding a few tree cats just for the hell of it before she closed the book and set it aside.

“We should get back to work now.” She stated sadly, receiving an expected groan from Connor. He was still smiling, though. They both were. The afternoon had grown this pleasant aura around it that continued on as they both finished the notes with occasional five minute drawing breaks. Two hours since they had started, they had finished, and now were laying on Alana’s bed, napping together. Well, Connor was napping. Alana didn’t want to ruin her sleep schedule and just browsed on her phone until she felt him stir underneath her. 

“Hello~” She greeted lazily, patting his head a bit. He shut his eyes and yawned. 

“Hello..”

“Sleep well?”

“Mhmm.. You’re-- um- yep.”

“What is it?” Alana frowned. “Finish your sentence, Connor.”

“.. I was gonna say you’re warm.” He blushed. Alana felt flattered, giggling and putting her warm hand on his chilled face. “You’re cold.” She said back playfully. Connor rolled his eyes and put a cold hand on her face- causing her to recoil. He beamed and kept touching her face to her displeasure until she grabbed both of his hands and held them at his side with hers, laughing and out of breath.

“Connor, stop it.”

“No.” He stuck out his tongue immaturely. She mimicked him, sticking her tongue out as far as she could. He did too and they both broke face, laughing until they calmed, even then a few extra amused breaths came from them until Alana was just laying on Connor again. They didn’t really have anything to do or anywhere to go; so Alana figured it was okay to just lay there. 

“.... Wanna play truth or dare again?” Connor asked. Alana shook her head.

“How about.. Never have I ever?”

“I don’t wanna.. Play any games, Connor.”

Connor frowned, the small smile he had on his face for the past couple hours faltering. “Oh. Um- sorry..”

“.. It’s okay.” She pet him understandingly. “How about.. Let’s just talk.”

“.. ‘Bout what?”

“.... Dunno.” She sighed. “I kind of just want to lay here.. But, that's weird, right?”

“No, no..” He yawned. “Me too. I dunno what to talk about and uh.. I'm comfy.”

She chuckled and nodded lazily, putting her arms around him. He embraced her and shut his eyes again. She weighed the pros and cons of joining him in sleep and fell asleep before she could reach a conclusion.

 

\----

 

[Connor (frog emoji) (holding hands emoji) (frog emoji)]: ‘ _ hey. What's up’ _

[Febreeze (Alana)]: ‘ _ Connor it's literally been 15 minutes since u left my house oh my god’ _

_ ‘:(‘ _

_ ‘It's okay though. I missed you.’ _

_ ‘:)’ _

_ ‘:-)’ _

_ ‘What shld I name him BTW?’ _

_ ‘Him?’ _

_ ‘the stuffed animal u gave me when I left ur house. The wolf one?’ _

_ ‘Oh! Yeah! I always thought of her as a she but he's okay too :-)’ _

_ ‘No he's a she now’ _

_ ‘Oh.’ _

_ ‘.. I'm thinking rose. Or daisy. Or smthn. Idk’ _

_ ‘I don't know. I don't really name my stuffed animals?’ _

_ ‘Uh yeah it's stupid sorry’ _

_ ‘No no!! It's cute. You're cute’ _

_ ‘fuck you don't call me cute I'm dying’ _

_ ‘Sorry..’ _

_ ‘Dude. Sarcasm’ _

_ ‘Oh! Okay then screw you too and you're the cutest person ever!! Name her.. Alana Jr.’ _

_ ‘Asdfghhjkll;:; omg. Umm no also BTW on alana Jr I'm not naming her that.’ _

_ ‘Petunia. Rose. Daisy. Tulip. Lavender. Meadow. Juniper. Daffodil. All of these are good names and they relate to flowers’ _

_ ‘I'm naming her gremlin' _

_ ‘No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’ _

_ ‘:) gremlin.. Jr.’ _

_ ‘No… Connor I will take her back don't do that.’ _

_ ‘:( don't be rude’ _

_ ‘Sarcasm?’ _

_ ‘Yeah.’ _

_ ‘I'll be rude all I want then. She's not gremlin Jr’ _

_ ‘Fine. I'm gonna look up some names.’ _

_ ‘K.’ _

Five minutes later.

_ ‘Holy shit alana I'm naming her one of the white girl names’ _

_ ‘White girl names? Like Jessica?’ _

_ ‘no! better.’ _

_ ‘listen up: these r the white girl names Alana:’ _

_ ‘Bexley. Ashtyn, Katelyn, Releigh, CVIIIlyn. Paisley. Kyndyl.’ _

_ ‘Connor.. I both hate and love this. Also, how do you pronounce ‘CVIIIlyn’?’ _

_ ‘Caitlyn. But the ait is VIII which is 8’ _

_ ‘...’ _

_ ‘That's her name now’ _

_ ‘.. Fine’ _

_ ‘:) thank u for CVIIILYN btw’ _

_ ‘No problem! I'm glad you like her :) I know you're a sleep cuddler so..’ _

_ ‘What?? I am??’ _

_ ‘Yeah! It's okay, though, it's cute’ _

_ ‘>:( okay but you talk in your sleep.’ _

_ ‘Oh no. what do I say?’ _

_ ‘random shit about houses mostly. It's weird.’ _

_ ‘Haha’ _

_ ‘:p’ _

_ ‘Aww. :-)’ _

_ ‘Alright i gtg. Talk to u later?’ _

_ ‘Mhmm. ttyl.’ _

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave some comments bbys


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on, and so does their friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is stupid and i feel like its a weird way to end it but whatever lets post it and finish this shit up boys!! I didn't even proofread!! so!! fuck!! hope yall had fun reading this cause i had some fun writing it uhh tw: alcohol, cutting, suicide idealation, suicide talk, homophobic slur, i think thats all

Connor Murphy and Alana Beck are more than just acquaintances. They are more than just friends. They are best friends- even if they feel dorky admitting it. Connor feels safe around Alana, like she really cares, and Alana feels happy whenever Connors around; an excitement brought to her life that she usually doesn’t get.

Alana Beck quits a lot of her clubs. She feels guilty, but decides it’s in her best interest: she never cared about cooking club anyways, she just wanted to make friends. But now that she had one good friend and experience to make more without forcing herself into a group, she doesn’t need that cooking club anymore- or book club- or however many clubs she joined just for an experience like following Connor out those doors that one chilly school afternoon.

Connor Murphy calms down and tries to get better- it’s something he’s not the best at and he falls down into his old behaviours from time to time, but it’s better than sitting down and doing nothing about it. He sees Zoe wearing the necklace he bought him sometimes, and it makes him happy. He stops slamming things around his sister just to scare her- because the fear in her eyes has actually hurt this whole time; he recognizes it was just another fucked up way to punish himself for what he’s already done to her and who he was. Alana helps him a lot, sometimes without him even wanting it, but he’ll never refuse a hug from his favourite person. 

Their friendship isn’t linear- it breaks and comes together again. Sometimes Connor says things he doesn’t mean and sometimes Alana shuts herself off. Sometimes they just don’t speak for a while. They were scared when it first happened- especially Connor with his clingy BPD, but as soon as they make time they’re back to their old spot again: laughing and hugging and affectionately insulting one another. 

Alana smashes the system in her head that’s held her back for so long- the one that made her come up to Connor in the first place just to feel superior for helping him, and the one that made her cry in his van that one day because she was ‘inferior’ in that moment. She smashes and burns it, letting it rot in the back of her mind and reassuring herself that she is good enough- even though she isn’t the most popular, or the most conventionally attractive, or the most talented (Connor aggressively lets her know that she is, in fact, talented. She tries her best to believe that) she is still good. And, with that system gone, she actually makes a few friends and stops being so selfish. They’re nerdy and not the most popular but they’re genuinely kind and that’s all she can really hope for.

But, life isn’t linear and eventually one of those friends she drifts from and the rest Connor doesn’t like because he’s jealous and then they have to have a big argument which ends in Connor almost crying because he’s such a possessive person and goddamnit he doesn’t want Alana to leave him for some new, better, friends. Alana takes the high ground as always and reassures him that even though she has some new friends, she won’t forget him. And also that he’s being a big baby and needs to ‘suck it up’. He doesn’t appreciate the last part but hugs her anyways.

Connor takes his medication as required and feels himself getting slightly better. There isn’t some magical change but it’s still better than nothing. His scars on his arms fade for a week, then are reopened when emotions run. However, they fade more and more as time goes on. He doesn’t cut for a week, then a month, then two months, then half a week (sometimes we go backwards), then finally three months pass and he realizes the scars on his arms are nothing more than small pink lines and he cries. He cries and doesn’t cut himself open for it but instead just lets all of those tears come out; and damn it felt good. Even though he probably can’t go back into that Kohl’s again out of sheer embarrassment for crying in aisle 5, it still felt good. He draws on his arms instead, as per Alana’s suggestion, and likes all the flowers that are on there. Alana draws on them too- small cats and other cute things. One time she drew a dick on his elbow and immediately apologized, even though she wasn’t really sorry, and Connor kept it on the whole day, laughing whenever he saw it in class.

They have small changes and new friends are added now on Connor’s side- one friend that honestly neither saw coming: Jared Kleinman. They were paired for a reading project and actually got along upon coming up on their third week of working. He’s less obnoxious when he’s just around Connor and Alana but still gets loud whenever Connor laughs at one of his jokes; beating that one joke into the ground until Connor has to inform him to ‘stop, it’s not funny anymore’. Connor still has a smile on his face, though, because he knows that it’s just to make him laugh more. Alana finds him bearable in his current state, but hopes that he becomes more likeable soon.

They also both meet Jared’s blonde friend, Evan. He’s weird and sweaty and stammers a lot. Connor and Alana take pity on him at first but after actually talking to him alone Alana seems to grow fond of him. Connor feels indifferent, but will protect him from Jared’s not so friendly bullying whenever it comes up. Evan quickly stops him though when Connor actually punches Jared in the nose for calling Evan a ‘fag’ jokingly. Soon after that and some more teasing from a crumpled Jared on the floor, Connor officially comes out to everyone. Alana joins and Zoe quietly says something about her questioning in the corner. They support her. Jared is unusually silent. Jared comes out as gay about a year later.

Zoe finally texts Alana what she was going to say that one night when they hung out and she had a breakdown over her brother: That she loves Alana. Truly, romantically, ‘I want to date you you’re so cute’, love. Alana takes a few hours to debate her own feelings before finally just saying ‘fuck it’ and telling Zoe that she’d love to go on a few dates with her. The dates go amazingly and Connor finds out on their third date. He tells Zoe in private that Alana is a good person and he’s glad Zoe’s with someone good but if anything happens, Zoe, not even with Alana but with anyone, text me and I’ll kill them for you. Zoe appreciates the sentiment but tells Connor that she can protect himself and leads Alana up to her room. Connor doesn’t say anything when he hears the bed creaking that night at about three AM.

Their life and their friendships aren’t linear, things fall apart and come back together again. Zoe and Alana have some rough patches and Connor finds some new boyfriends and then they’re gone after a month or two. College splits Alana and Connor apart for a while because Alana goes to tech school for a programming career and Connor.. Well, Connor goes into a generic major because, honestly, he promised himself he’d be dead before college and he never really made any plans just in case he made it without killing himself. The stress almost fulfills that promise for him but he graduates and gets a small job at the aquarium for a while. Alana swings by and hangs out with him somtimes. It’s hard to keep up their friendship as adults but they’re finding it pretty okay. Alana hugs him when he tells her about how he never thought he’d make it this far and he feels nice at the reassurance, making a new promise: to try and live. 

Connor cries at Zoe and Alana’s wedding, it’s not a big sob but he finds it hard to hide his tears, especially as the best man. Alana and Zoe kiss and Zoe carries her wife back down the aisle for a dance afterwards, which actually isn’t the best idea since Zoe isn’t that strong to hold up a whole Alana and drops her halfway there but Alana just laughs it off and kisses her wife again. 

Alana goes outside for a small drink and Connor is already there, sitting on one of the concrete steps in front of the house.  She sits down next to him, a soft look on her face. She reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look over. 

“Hey.” She greets, sipping her beer. Connor smiles tightly. 

“Hey.”

“What’cha doing out here?”

Connor shrugged. “Dunno. Needed to get out for a bit. Jared’s being embarrassing again.”

She chuckled. “Well, he’s  _ your  _ boyfriend. You should know he’s be embarrassing by now.”

He snoofed. “Yeah. What are _you_ doing out here?”

“Just getting some air. It’s kinda loud in there and.. I don’t really like parties.”

“Mm.”

Alana looks up at the sky, the chilly air brushing past her shoulders. She shivers and takes another sip, hoping the beer will warm her.

“.... I just feel so out of place.” Connor sighs after a moment.

Alana looks over. “What do you mean?”

“.. Like.. I don’t wanna be a downer but.. I feel so weird being alive.”

Alana sighs and holds his hand, a small tradition they’ve had since they were in high school. 

“Like..” He continues, leaning into her. “I never envisioned myself.. Being here. I don’t feel like me.”

“Who do you feel like then?”

“.... Me. But happier. A happy person.”

“.. Isn’t that good?”

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s just.. Weird.”

“Mm.” Alana sets down her beer and kisses Connor on the cheek, making him blush and smile shyly. She smiles back. “I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad you’re happy- even if it is weird.”

“.. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment if u enjoyed! reblog to ur friends! ily all!


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